


That Wicked and Needy Type of Love

by RenTenTen



Category: Gemma Doyle Trilogy - Libba Bray, Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: BAMF Gemma, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Immortality, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenTenTen/pseuds/RenTenTen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gemma left the realms that last time, she thought that she was through with magic. However, finding out that she's been gifted, or cursed, with immortality gives a whole new perspective to things. Her epic love is a tree, her friends are long gone, and the only thing that has any appeal to her is wandering around searching for adventure. And Mystic Falls is her new adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That Elusive Thing Called Death

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a super shout out to EvanescentOrchid on Fanfiction, who wrote "Evanescent Temptation". If you're a fan of this genre, then you've probably already read it. It was awesome, was it not? Anyway, that story inspired me to write my own about Gemma mixed up with some vamps. However, as much I love Twilight, I just can't pair her with any of the guys from there. Sorry, I just don't have it in me. So instead, you'll just have to enjoy some Demma action (Damon/Gemma, I thought Gamon sounded too much like a Digimon or something. LOL) I do not have a beta, all mistakes are my own. If you want to be my beta, hit me up.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the recognizable characters, settings, or situations. I do however, own the characters reactions to the situations that I put them in.
> 
> BTW, if anyone seems OOC, they are. It's an AU, everyone is OOC. Silly geese!

When I met The Three on the foggy barge those many years ago, I didn't know that this is what they meant.

I should have realized it when they said we wouldn't meet again. They were the Three that took everyone to the other side after death. And like a fool I had given away my final choice of death. It wasn't until after my twenty-fifth birthday until I started to get a sense that something wasn't right. I had gone to America after graduating from Spence, I was going to start fresh. I graduated from university and became a secretary for a lawyer. It was while I was on a lunch with some of the other ladies from the office when it was brought to my attention.

"Gemma," started Addie, she was born in the States and she had a strange accent, she was from Boston, "you must tell us how you manage to stay looking so young. What are you, twenty-five and not a wrinkle in sight." Americans were very blunt, it took me a bit to get used to their inquisitiveness. In Britain, you didn't ask questions, you spoke about the weather just to be polite. But, I truly didn't have anything to tell her. I shrugged and said,

"My mother always looked younger than her age. I must have gotten it from her."

Three years later and I still looked the same. The same as I looked as a twenty-two year old. I felt as if it must have had something to do with the realms. I had not returned since that last time at Spence, so it couldn't have been a result of the magic that resided there. And there couldn't have been any magic left in me, because I had bound it equally to the lands. Both Ann and Felicity were just as involved in the realms as I was, but through the letters and pictures we had sent over the years, I could see them aging. Though slight, it was there. But for me, nothing had changed after a certain point in time.

I was at a loss for what could be causing my seemingly everlasting youth, and there was only one group of beings that could possibly answer my questions. So sitting alone in my apartment one evening after work, I gathered my courage to call the door of light.

I was afraid that it wouldn't work. I hadn't tried anything magic-related for eleven years. But I think I was even more afraid that it would work. I told the creatures of the realm that I would be back. To help them find a balance, and to mediate between the tribes. If this did work, all I could hope was that time passed differently there than it had for me, and that they hadn't missed my presence too much. And it was not only the creatures of the realms that I was worried about seeing again. Kartik was there, as he would be forever. While he assumed that we would meet, and be together again, how could that be? Especially since he was tethered to the Tree of All Souls for seemingly the rest of the realms' existence, and I wasn't even aging properly enough to expect death at this point. After the first couple years after our separation, I would have dream of him, of us in the realms, of love and possibilities. But sooner than later, those dreams dwindled, fizzled out to nothing, and I was left with the harsh realities that I find myself in now.

I called for the door. Nothing happened. I called again, focusing on the memories of old Gemma, Felicity, Ann, and Pippa when we would call it after sneaking out of Spence and into that cave in the woods. And the lights flickered out. A breeze made my spine tingle. And when I opened my eyes, the door was there. And I grabbed the knob and turned it, stepping to the other side.

When I stepped out, I was in the garden. A great wave of nostalgia passed over me. This was where I saw my pseudo-mother for the first time after her death, where the other girls and I would frolic and play. It looked the same. It looked beautiful. It was perfect. And I could feel the power I was used to feeling inside me thrum in the air. But it was quiet, and the silence made me wary. I was hoping to see some of my old allies here, just waiting for me. But I knew that was a wish if there ever was one. I started walking towards the river. If there was one person who I'd want to see most right now it would be Gorgon.

As I made my way to the river, I became aware of a rustling in the bushes. There was someone or something watching me, and here I was, all alone and unarmed. I hoped that whatever it was, was just curious, because I was out of shape and practice when it came to fighting for my life. I finally made it to the river, and I found what I was looking for. Gorgon's boat was quite a ways away from shore, but I waved, and it seems she or one of the many snakes nestled upon her crown was aware of me, for she began steering in my direction.

Whoever that was watching, had left by now. And I felt more safe the closer Gorgon came. At last, her boat drifted next to me, and she let the side down for me to board.

"Most High," she rasped. "You have finally returned." She didn't turn to look at me, which I was grateful for since in her unbound state her turn-you-to-stone eyes were active. Been there, done that.

"I have." I smiled. "It's really good to see you, Gorgon." I paused for a beat. "I do have a question though."

"Hm?" She asked, steering toward an unknown destination.

"I asked you before, why you called me Most High. Back then, you said it was because I was the most powerful priestess, the highest rank. But now, why do you still call me it? I have no more powers, I bound it all to be divided between the realms."

"Perhaps it is true that you bound power to the realms. But I do not lie. If you had none of your own, how is it that you are here?" She had a point. I needed to have some sort of magic to enter the realms. This was all just very confusing for me.

"Where are we going, Gorgon?"

"The Winterlands." She replied.

"For what reason?" I asked.

"I assumed that you would like to visit." She was right of course. I had grown older, but Gorgon was still 'Most Wise'. I sat back for the rest of the ride. My eyes taking in the changes that had occurred while I was away. We reached the Winterlands after a time, and the changes here were most drastic. For one, we didn't have to hide upon our entrance, the previously dead grass was completely rejuvenated, and even the trees were trying to turn over a new leaf. The silence of everything was still disconcerting. When we had gone as far as we could go by boat, Gorgon let down the plank.

"Thank you Gorgon. I'll be back shortly. I... just have to say goodbye."

"I will be here." Replied Gorgon. I knew the way well, even if I hadn't been here for years and the reason for visit was much different. When I made it, all I could do was sit at the base of the tree that captured my Kartik. Wendy had once told me that when the wind blew through the leaves she would hear the most beautiful sounds. Experiencing it for the first time myself, I was inclined to agree. It sounded like my name. Gem-ma, Gem-ma. It was him whispering my name.

I stood after a while and placed my palms and forehead on the bark, trying to get as close to Kartik as I could.

"Kartik. I know it has been quite a while. But I'm here now. And I'm here to say I love you. I will always love you, but I don't think we'll ever be together. I'll never forget you, and I probably will never move on, but it is time for me to say goodbye." I pat the trunk one last time before turning away, brushing off the traitorous tears that I didn't wish to fall." I swear as I was walking away I could hear him say 'I love you'.

Reaching the boat, I climbed aboard. "Gorgon, if it isn't too much trouble, could you take me to see Philon?"

"As you wish." Was her apathetic response. We arrived swiftly, and no more words passed between us. When we reached the edge of the forest, I was surprised to see Gorgon joining me on the ground. "Follow, Most High." We walked swiftly through the forest, and again, I felt like someone was watching me, possibly the same something from the garden. I chose to ignore it and hope that it wasn't a threat. Arriving to a clearing, I was surprised to see a few Hajin around. When I had left all those years ago, there was still a vast amount of animosity between the opposing creatures. Gorgon led me to a large tent that I remembered was Philon's and opened the flap, gesturing for me to go in. I did without hesitation, and she followed. Adjusting my eyes to the darker interior took me a few moments, and the first figures I saw were Philon and Asha.

"It's so good to see both of you." I bowed, I was in the presence of the leaders of the Forest People and the Hajin, respectively.

"Priestess." Philon greeted.

"Lady Hope." Asha smiled.

"It's been a while." Said Philon. "I was thinking that you'd never come back." The way he said it, I couldn't be sure if he was disappointed or not. I chose not to care.

"Yes. I had some...issues...I had to work out for myself. You've done a remarkable job rebuilding here. Everything looks the same, if not better."

"It just shows that working together we can accomplish the most impossible of things." Chimed the soft-spoken Hajin leader.

"It seems as if you want something, Priestess. Out with it." I wasn't sure how to phrase my question. "If you're worried about our bargain, while the way you went about dividing the magic wasn't ideal, the outcome was... favorable." Good. I had been worried about that. Philon had given me those silver arrows and bow, but in return he wanted a portion of the magic. He was mad enough that first time when I had a chance to split the magic with him, and instead I bound it all to myself. Philon wasn't the most trustworthy creature around.

"I need your council on a matter." He nodded his head, bringing a pipe to his lips. "I'm sure that you can tell I've grown, aged, somewhat. But I'm afraid that I haven't aged nearly as much as I should have. I believe that it has something to do with the magic or the realms, but I don't know how that could be if this is the first time in eleven years that I've stepped in them. And apart from whatever minor magic that I used to get into the realms, I don't have any.

"What an interesting conundrum."

"Do you remember when you went to visit the dark-hearted priestess in the well?" asked Asha. I nodded. How could I forget the complicated character that called herself Circe? "She told you that when you bound the magic, and used it, you changed it." I wasn't even going to dwell on the fact that Asha knew the whole time what Circe was telling me during our 'sessions'. "When you hold the magic long enough, it stays with you. You may not be tethered to this world, but a piece of it is tethered to you. The magic that you hold within yourself is not minor, and it belongs to you. As for the matter of aging, look around, we don't have much of that around here. I wouldn't know where to begin in dissecting that matter."

"Have you every encountered the Three?" Philon asked, he was now creating shapes with the smoke he blew out.

"The Three Crones? That ferry you to you death?" I asked. He nodded in affirmation.

"I have. But what do they have to do with anything?"

"Did you ever have a conversation with them?" I nodded slowly, going through my memories to try and recall what had been said.

*Flashback*

"Your time has come. You have a choice to make." She opened her hand. There rested a cluster of deep purple berries, much darker in hue than the ones Pip ate. They sat cupped in her palm, as bright as jewels. "Swallow the berries, and we will ferry you away to glory. Refuse them and you must return to whatever awaits. Once you choose, there is no turning back." For a moment, I heard my friends calling me, but they seemed far away, as if I could run and run and never catch them.

"Gemma." I turn to see Circe behind me. She had lost the gray pallor she wore earlier. She looked just as she did the first day I saw her at Spence, when she was Miss Moore, the teacher I loved. "You did well," she said.

"You knew Mrs. Spence had become the tree, didn't you?" I said.

"Yes." She answered.

"And you meant to save me?" I asked hopefully.

She gave me a rueful smile. "Have no illusions about me, Gemma. I meant to save myself first. To have the power second. You were a distant third."

"But I was third." I said.

"Yes," she said with a little laugh. "You were third."

"Thank you," I said. "You saved me."

"No. You saved yourself. I only helped a little bit."

"What will become of you now?" I asked. She doesn't answer.

"She will roam here in the mist for all time," the crone told me.

The choice before me in her palm. The cries of my friends grew faint in the fog. I took one plump berry and placed it on my tongue, tasting it. It was not tart. Rather, there was only a pleasant sweetness, and then nothing. It was the taste of forgetting. Of sleep and dreams with no waking. Never to long or yearn, to struggle or love or desire ever again. And I understood that this is what it truly meant to lose your soul. My mouth went numb with sweetness. The berry sat on my tongue.

Felicity carrying goldenrod in her arms. Ann's voice, strong and sure. Gorgon matching though the battlefield. I had to only swallow the berry and it would be done. That was all. Swallow the berry and with it all the struggle, all care, all hope. How easy it would've been to do.

Kartik. I left him at the tree. The tree. I was to do something there.

So very, very easy...

Kartik

With a tremendous effort, I spit the berry from my mouth, gagging as I tried to rid my tongue of the sugary numbness. My body ached as if I had pushed a heavy rock uphill forever, but now I was rid of it.

"I'm sorry. I cannot go with you. Not now. But I am to have a request, am I not?"

"If you wish it."

"I do. I should like to offer my place to another," I said, looking toward Circe.

"You would give it to me?" She said.

"You saved my life. That must count for something." I said.

"You know I abhor self-sacrifice," she replied.

"I know, but I'll not have you wandering in the mists. Too dangerous."

She smiled at me. "You've done very well, indeed, Gemma." She turned to the Three. "I accept." Circe stepped onto the barge. The crone nodded to me.

"You've made your choice. There is no turning back now. Whatever shall happen you must accept."

"Yes, I know."

"Then we wish you luck. We'll not meet again."

*End Flashback*

"I gave up my choice of glory in order to come back and finish the fight. She said that my choice was final and we wouldn't meet again..." I said trailing off. The truth was slowly but surely starting to unravel itself to me.

"What an interesting turn in events." While I counted Philon as an ally, his ambiguity made it really hard to like him as a person. He seemed to enjoy my confusion. "She offered you a sweet death, and yet you chose life. It seems to me that what we have here is a case of accidental immortality." I turned to Asha, incredulity coloring my features. She looked to be contemplating what he said, but not openly refuting it. And Gorgon, well, she seemed like she knew that was the case already. "Welcome to the ranks." Teased Philon, a small smirk on his face.

"Are you serious about this?"

"Well, it's only an educated guess. The only way to know for sure is if you look the same in fifty years."

"It doesn't happen often, but I've heard tales of immortality being gifted by the realms, after an incredibly courageous act. It hasn't happened before in my lifetime, but that doesn't make it any less possible." Added Asha.

"As a true immortal," Gorgon started, her snakes hissing lowly upon her head, "I recognize another." She nodded.

And that was how I found out I was immortal. After that, I made it back to my apartment, packed up and left. I couldn't stay there any longer. I traveled all over the States after that. Never staying in one place long enough to draw attention. I thanked my lucky stars that at least I looked old enough to rent or buy my own place. I could've just as easily been stuck in my seventeen year old body for the rest of my existence. And Asha was right about my magic. It was still with me and it was different. I found out when I created new identification papers the night I returned from the realms. I assumed that they would last at least a full day before fading out of existence, but two days passed, and they were still there, then a week, then a month. I realized that my powers upgraded from mere illusions to something permanent.

Alas, it was 2009 now, and I decided that my new home would be in the state I could never gather the courage to visit, Virginia. Like my mother. Finding a map, I looked around, trying to find a city that called out to me. Mystic Falls. Well that sounded promising. I took the map up to the teen behind the counter.

"Going on a road trip?" The gangly teen asked as I paid.

"Something like that." I answered vaguely. I left the gas station and headed toward my black Harley. Putting on my dark helmet, I started him up and pealed out of the parking lot. Maybe Mystic Falls would hold some type of adventure for me.


	2. That Mystic Town

Getting settled in Mystic Falls was easier than expected. I found a job, two actually. I was primarily working as a bartender at the Mystic Grill. It really seemed like every shop downtown had "Mystic" somewhere in it's name. I was sure that the natives found it to be a joke that got old really quick. My second was a little part time gig at a dress shop. The owner was a nice older lady - well, not older than me, but you get it - who needed a little help with sales and odd-jobs around the shop every so often. During my life span, I had accumulated quite a bit of wealth. Some I worked for on my own, some was from my portion of my family's estate in London and my dowry. I by no means needed to work, but working took my mind off things, gave me a chance to meet new people, gave me a reason not to be alone. Only God knew how lonely it could get after over one hundred years.

I even rented a small house. It was a one bedroom deal. I would have opted for an apartment, but there weren't many, if any, in this small town. This kind of town was a 'stay-here-and-settle-down-forever-in-a-house' kind of town. There weren't too many single, 'young' people unattached to family hanging around here.

From what I could tell, I would like living here. Of course, right now, I was on the watch list of all the older generation Mystic Falls folks. I got it. I was an unknown entity. I was new, unfamiliar. A vagabond really. I found it almost comical, how years ago it was my lover playing the part of the gypsy, and now it was me. The universe loved to keep the balance. I took the judging stares in stride though. Soon, I'd win their trust, become a staple in the community, and when I felt my time was up, ride out of town just like I rode in. Silently and with a mysterious air.

My first night working the bar went smoothly, everything was very straight forward. For the most part, the people in this town didn't ask for any type of drink that needed more prep than pouring - though I was qualified to do much more. It wasn't until I was a few weeks into the job when I got my first bout of excitement.

There was a group of kids, they looked to be around seventeen, give or take a year or two, and they would come in a lot on weekends, and even sometimes during the week to do homework or just chat. There was the pretty brunette who was dating Matt - the busboy. On the few occasions that I actually got to talk to him, he seemed cool, down to earth and all that. I think that her name was Eliza. It was something like that, it started with an 'E'. I don't know I'm not a stalker. Then there was this bubbly blonde. She was obnoxious, loud, and shallow. But despite all of those lovely qualities, she seemed like she had a good heart. Then there was another brunette. She was black, with eyes that were more hazel than green and eyebrows that stayed arched. I was getting some serious vibes from her. Of the magical variety. Those were the main three.

There was Matt's friend, a tan boy with short dark hair. I think he was the mayor's son. He gave off a douche vibe, and he usually hung out with his fellow jocks around the pool tables more so that with the three girls. Matt also had a sister, Vicky, who worked as a waitress. We never talked. She was either too high, or too I'm-too-alternative-cool-to-hang, to carry on a conversation with. She was the complete opposite of her older brother. She was apparently somewhat dating Matt's douche friend, but also 'hanging' with Matt's girlfriend's younger brother, who was in all definitions of the word, a pot head. A cute pot head, but one nonetheless.That made up the most interesting group of teenagers that frequented the Grill and also the group that sent one of their members to try and get some drinks out of me.

It was Saturday night and they wanted some shots. They sent the blonde to try and sway me. They would have had better luck with a guy. I don't know maybe they thought I liked women as much as Felicity did. Or maybe they though they could pull one over on me since I was new here.

"Hi." She smiled. "My table would like two rounds of shots." I was cleaning out a glass at this point. Just staring at her.

"You got I.D.?" I asked, letting boredom slip into my tone.

"Oh," she waved her hand dismissively, "all the other bartenders know us. They don't card us anymore." I put the glass down and picked up a new one, never breaking eye contact.

"Yeah, well, I'm not them. So I still need to see an I.D." She sighed dramatically. Over her shoulder I could see her group of friends trying - and failing -not to check on her progress.

"Here you go." She placed an I.D. on the counter in front of us. I picked it up looking at it. I cut my eyes back to her.

"Okay, Nancy. This I.D. is obviously fake." At her cool expression slid off her face as a deer in headlights one replaced it just as quickly. I slid it back to her. Looking around the Grill I saw that there were no parents, or cops, or cop parents in the general vicinity or paying attention. My boss was in back doing paperwork or whatever. The other bartender, Stacey, was flirting with some college guys. Her attention was securely focused on them. "But here's what I'm going to do." I pulled out a tray and started arranging shot glasses on it. I pulled out the tequila and started filling them. "I'm in a very generous mood right now. So here's the deal. Two rounds are all you get. If the law walks in and sees you, you didn't get it from me. Make something up. Don't get use to this. And finally, the most important thing, if you can't drive, don't. Come to me and I'll call you a cab. Got it?" She nodded. "Good, now money up front." She pushed the bills across the counter to me. I pushed the tray to her. I could see the shock decreasing in her eyes and being replaced by something akin to hero worship. "Alright, now get back to your friends." She grabbed her tray and I.D. and quickly walked away.

I wasn't too worried about getting caught. If worse came to worse I could cast and illusion and get out of the offense. But these kids reminded me of a younger me. But back in my day we had to go through a lot more just to get a little whiskey. I poured a shot for myself, and catching Blondie's eye I lifted my glass and gave her a nod, downing the contents without a flinch. Yeah. I think I could get along here just fine.


	3. That Tragedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy and review if you feel like it, I know nice reviews always let me know if I'm doing something right.

Time passed, and I had been in town for a few months now. I had become the illegal liquor supplier to the kids whenever I worked, as well as the resident - and free - psychologist. Upside though, I finally knew all of their names now, didn't mean I always used them.

"Aren't you worried that you get caught?" Matt asked. He never participated in the drinking, something about not following in his mom's footsteps, as well as needing to be clear-headed to take care of all Vicky's mishaps.

"Not particularly." I said, wiping down the bar. "I mean, their parents probably know they drink anyway. It's not that big of a deal. In England there is no drinking age. I guess that's why I ignore it here. I grew up with drunken teens not getting arrested." I paused, the thought of drunken teen brought back both very fond and very frightening memories for me. "They don't even arrest you for being drunk in public there. Here it's against the law. America is weird." I finished. At that Matt lifted his eyebrows and just shook his head at me. "What?" I cracked a rare smile. "You know it is. And besides, I have a way of making my problems disappear." I finished cryptically.

"And that wasn't creepy at all." Matt said laughing, moving away to clear a recently vacated booth. Caroline came bursting through the door just then. Speeding toward me and then plopping on the stool right in front of me. She looked frazzled.

"Gemma, I'm having major boy issues."

"Hmmm. Don't know much about boys." I drawled.

"Yeah right. I bet you have tons of experience."

"I'm not sure if I should be flattered that you're coming to me for advice, or if you just called me a slut."

"Oh Gemma," she sighed dramatically. She really didn't have any other type of sigh, "You know what I mean." Well, to be truthful, she wasn't wrong about me having tons of experience. I couldn't be a virgin for the rest of my extended life. I didn't do relationships, I was still healing from a past love. I did however, do one night stands. Plenty of those.

"Okay." I rolled my eyes. "Tell me all about your boy troubles." She then proceeded to talk my ear off for a good twenty minutes about her problem when it all boiled down to something very simple: She liked a guy, but he was sending out mixed signals so she wasn't sure if her liked her as well.

"So what should I do?" She finished.

"That was a long story. But I think I have an answer. You ready?" She nodded eagerly. "Ask the bloke out." I rolled my eyes yet again. Duh.

"What? No! There has to be another way." She crossed her arms, shaking her head.

"Listen, you know me. I'm a straight-forward kind of girl. You ask me questions, I give you answers. You got a problem, I'll give you an easy way to solve it. You don't like my advice, don't use it. That's that." I shrugged.

"Geez Gemma, you don't have get so touchy about it." I stopped wiping the glass I was holding and just looked at her. "Fine, fine. I'm leaving. I'll ask him at the party tonight."

"Be safe, and remember what I said."

"Yeah, yeah, if we can't drive I'll call you." She waved me away as she walked out of the door.

***********************************************************************************************

They used my advice. That I was glad for. I was glad that the Gilbert girl had called her parents to pick her up when she so obviously wasn't fit to drive in her drunken and upset state. Caroline had come in a few days after the party to tell me all about it, and at the same time telling me why none of the normal gang had been in yet. The girl's parents had died. She called them to come pick her up. She left the party earlier than she would have because she saw Caroline trying to put the moves on Matt, apparently I had given her the advice to do that but in all honesty I wouldn't have if I knew the guy she had her eye on was taken. She was upset and she left early and then there was a car accident on Wickery Bridge. Her parents were trapped in the car, but somehow a drunken and unconscious Elena had made it out with minimal injuries. It was a miracle, and I was glad, but it also reeked of foul play. How else would a completely sober doctor end up in a car accident in the dead of the night while traversing a bridge he crossed everyday? It just didn't add up to me. When you're around long enough, you learn to sniff these sorts of things out. And that Gilbert girl, either she had some sort of guardian angel looking out for her or she was just cheating death for a little while longer.

That tragedy put a damper on the rest of the summer. All the faces that entered the bar were blue, reeling from the loss of such important members of the community, but none were quite as blue and the Gilbert kids. Quite understandably. The girl, she behaved like a zombie. There was no life or joy in her eyes, probably because she thought their deaths were her fault. Before she was a social butterfly, the queen bee, but now, she shied away from her friends, opting instead to sit at her parent's tombstones writing in her journal. Probably writing especially depressing entries too. 

The Gilbert boy was a different story. He had one specific look in his eyes. The one a lost puppy has. He would be in the Grill much more that humanly necessary, and it was all for one reason. One Vicky Donavan. I didn't have anything particularly against Miss Vicky, but she was no good for baby Gilbert. He had already started to change. He smoked before, what kids don't?, but now it was more of a lifeline. He rarely came in sober. And I could pinpoint it all back to Vicky. He did it to hang with her, and on the way got caught up. I watched, until I couldn't watch anymore and had to intervene.

He was sitting alone at a high top table, watching the bubbles rise from his Cola. His eyes weren't completely bloodshot, but he did have the lingering scent of weed on him. Vicky was elsewhere. Maybe on break, maybe not. I didn't care. It was a slow day with very few workers, and so my duties were expanded to encompass waitressing. It was a perfect time to hold an intervention. I walked up to his table, nabbing his attention.

"What can I get for you baby Gilbert? Or are you fine with that Cola?" His eyes narrowed at the nickname. Apparently, I was the first to call him that. The way his hair flopped over his eyes was adorable. Endearing really. It reminded me of how Tom used to be. The fact that he reminded me of my long gone brother just made me want to save him even more. I would be able to be the supportive big sister my big brother could never quite achieve with me.

"Don't call me that." He scowled. "And I'm fine." I just smirked and sat in the chair just across from him.

"I don't believe that. And I'm not talking about the cola."

"Listen, I'm waiting for someone so-"

"Vicky's busy out back with one of her druggie groupies. Her break was over five minutes ago, I think it's safe to say she won't be back anytime soon." I interrupted his weak attempt at getting me to leave. "You know baby G. You and me, we are very much alike."

"Oh?" He asked, sardonically. "Please, do tell."

"We were both put in situations we weren't ready for. Both parentless." His eyes glazed over at this. "Yeah. You aren't the only one who's ever suffered the loss of loved ones." There was a long pause at this.

"How'd it happen?" He asked quietly. "If you don't mind me asking." He amended. 

"It was my mother first. She was murdered in cold blood. After seeing her dead body on the street, it was almost like I could see it happening right in front of me." I reflected back on that fateful day when I had that first premonition. "My father died much, much slower. He was so broken over the loss of my mother that he turned to drugs." I gave him a pointed look, "We got him into rehab eventually but by then he was past the point where his mind and body could be saved. I wasn't there when he died. I couldn't bear to see him like that."

"So you left him to die by himself?!" Jeremy exploded, seemingly offended on behalf of my deceased father.

"No. While I was in America when he passed, my brother was there with him." I stated sadly. "I realize that what I did was selfish, but I was young then, still a teenager."

"You're still young." Said Jeremy.

"Yeah. Yeah." I chuckled without humor. Forever young. What a joke. "You have to understand that things change as time moves on. Things that didn't matter much once, matter the most later on. So you see, we're very much alike. Sure things in our lives happened differently, but it's the same result. I like to think that I grew up alright. Just like you can. But first you have to stop wallowing in this weird depression you've got going on. Recreational drugs are cool for just that: recreation. But when you start using them for escape, nothing good can come out of it. I would know." I stood up to leave. "People come in and out of our lives all of the time babe, and it hurts. But you have to keep your heart open anyway to collect all the love being sent your way, because that's the only thing that will help you heal." I started to walk back to the bar.

"Wait" Jeremy said. I stopped, turning my head back to him slightly. "Whatever happened to your brother?" I slowly turned back to the bar, a sad smile on my lips.

"Oh, he's long gone. Things happen, you know." I shrugged. Tom had lived a good, long life. "Another difference. I'm all alone, you've still got your sister, aunt, friends. You'll make it through, no problem."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, some Gemma and Jeremy bonding. Gotta love it.


	4. That Odd and Handsome Stranger

This wasn't the first time this handsome stranger had come here. The first time he came here he was making googly eyes at Caroline. I came from a time where girls younger than her were married off to men much older than him. Seeing that large of an age gap didn't phase me. As long as it was consensual, it wasn't my business. But his googly eyes seemed insincere, and it seemed that whatever reason that he was pursuing this girl had an ulterior motive. Even so, it wasn't my business, but I would keep an eye on this guy for my own peace of mind.

He left so quickly that first time, I almost didn't see him go. Caroline surely didn't, she was left looking around for him. I suppose he did it to get her interested, to increase his mystery. It worked. I was intrigued as well. Caroline found me before she left with her friend that night.

"Did you see that hot guy Gemma? He was totally giving me the eye." She squeaked that annoyingly high pitched squeal only she could make.

"Yeah. I saw him." I replied calmly.

"I know he looks like he's in college, but do you think I have a chance?" I wasn't about to encourage her to seek out this guy with obviously ulterior motives, but I had to respond in some way.

"Whatever happens, just be aware and be careful."

"That didn't answer my question, Gem." I raised an eyebrow and her liberal use of my name.

"You should be aware by now that I only say what I want to say, not necessarily what you want to hear."

"Fine, fine. Stop being such a grouch. I'm leaving already." I just shook my head at her dramatics.

That was weeks ago. Word on the street was that she and him were a couple, and just as quickly broke it off. They would rub their relationship in the face of the Gilbert girl and her new boyfriend, who happened to be this mystery guy's younger brother. You got all the best gossip working at the bar. Caroline would now glare at him whenever he was around. She was now dating Matt. Things sure moved fast in Mystic Falls, especially when you were on the outside of things looking in.

This mystery guy, Damon, Stacey enlightened me, something about him (and his brother really) didn't sit right with me. So I decided to do a lot more observation of his character.

I knew how to make myself go unnoticed, it was a combination of using skills gained from years of sneaking around and a pinch of magic. I was also great at observing people from afar. He brooded, a lot. I overheard him talking about his younger brother once to Caroline's group of friends. He said that he was the brooder of the family. But I would watch as he put away the Bourbon he loved so dearly. I saw that he enjoyed brooding just as much. And could he put that alcohol away! At first I had some slight trepidation at continuing to serve him, afraid that he would pass out and die from alcohol poisoning, and then I was just morbidly fascinated with how much he could actually drink. So I just kept filling his cup. And he never noticed me because I willed it. I wanted to know more about the intriguing mystery he presented before I revealed myself.

I watched the people he surrounded himself with as well. There was his younger brother, Stefan. He was so serious all the time. I was afraid to get wrinkles just by watching him. But he was polite, and he had a gentleness about him I had only seen in the old days. Damon would watch the Gilbert girl too. When he watched her, he would get a faraway look in his eyes. I knew that look, I wore that look a lot. It was the look of a love lost. She - Elena was her name - must've reminded him of someone he loved dearly.

Then there was Bonnie. The only thing I could really use to describe her is that she felt familiar. Sometimes, after touching someone she would get a glazed look in her eye. The same kind of look I imagined I had whenever I used to get a vision. Perhaps I was in the presence of another magic user. And perhaps she didn't know about it yet.

I decided that I wanted to get to know this strange group of people more. They seemed like they attracted trouble. And trouble was the only fun thing around nowadays. I deemed that it was time for my up-close observations of Damon to start, so I took down the spell that pushed me to the side of peoples focus and I stepped into the spotlight, to pour Damon another drink. He stopped me before I walked away to tend to the next customer.

"Hey. Are you new? Because I haven't seen you around before and believe me, I would remember a face that gorgeous." My lips twitched in amusement at his obvious flirting, but pulled pack down into a neutral expression just as fast. You needed more than sweet words to penetrate a heart coated with stone and poison.

"Nope. Been working here for months. You just must not be very observant." I moved on to mix another drink, but he was hooked now.

"And with an accent. It's impossible for that piece of information to slide past my radar. Where have you been hiding?"

"Just in plain sight. I'm the only one who never cuts off your drinks or asks that you vacate the premises." That caught his attention. I saw a flash of recognition in his eyes.

"Tuesday, Thursday, and Fridays." He said. "I knew there was something special about those days."

"Yeah. Uninterrupted drinking time courtesy of me." I sang. Those were the days I worked.

"Well I apologize for not noticing you before. I would have hit on you sooner and by now we'd be in my bed." He smirked and winked saucily. I stifled a smile at his audacity.

"If that was supposed to be a hint for something I must apologize. It went right over my head." I blinked innocently. He grinned predatorily.

"How about when you get off of work, you and I go somewhere quiet to get better acquainted?"

"While I find your bold words quite entertaining, and I'm sure that going somewhere quiet with you would be even more entertaining, I must decline for I'm currently in mourning."

"Sorry to hear that, but are you sure I can't convince you to take a walk with me?" He asked again, his glacier blue eyes dilated unnaturally and I finally grasped that he was trying to hypnotise me somehow.

"I bet you'd like to take that walk down a dark alleyways, wouldn't you?" I ran my hand lightly up his arm. I was just trying to tease him, but I couldn't help but notice that he had some nice muscle definition.

"Preferably." He said, I could see him getting excited.

"Sorry. Not interested." I removed my hand and walked to the other end of the bar. Grabbing a full bottle of his choice of Bourbon. I came back and sat it next to him. "You seem to be having a bad day. I'll just sit this within reach." He caught my arm before I could leave again.

"The name's Damon. Damon Salvatore." I transformed his hold on my wrist to a handshake.

"Gemma. Just Gemma. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He kissed the back of my hand like gentlemen used to do.

"The pleasure's all mine." I gave him a smile sweet enough to induce cavities, then walked away again.


	5. That First Stirring of Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In an effort to start the year on a good non-procrastinating foot, I'm gonna put out all the updated chapters now, which is just like two, but whatever. Happy New Years.

"So tell me about yourself Ms. Gemma." Damon Salvatore "requested" one night while I was working. He had been there for an hour and a few drinks already. Brooding away about something, watching me perform my tasks over his glass. He thought he was being covert, but I would be able to feel his eyes on me in pitch darkness. I cut a look at him, and decided to humor him.

"I was born, I grew up, the end." He chuckled at this.

"So vague Gemma." He chastised. "I'm sure more things have happened than that. I'm sure very interesting things have happened to you, you're such an interesting person. Wouldn't you care to share?" His eyes dilated again, like they did the first time we met. And when I sighed but didn't answer his question right away, I saw a glint of confusion and anger pass through his eyes.

"Nope. I'm pretty sure I'm at the end of my story." I'd lived a normal lifetime, and then some. Immortality is kind of endgame.

"Impossible. A pretty little thing like you? Never. Tell me about your family." His glass was empty, so I refilled it. He knocked back a swallow appreciatively.

"What do you want to know?" I asked warily.

"Tell me about your father." He asked.

"Dead." I answered.

"Your mother?"

"Dead."

"Any siblings?"

"I had an older brother."

"And he's your sister now?" He tried to joke.

"Cute." I said without a smile. "He's dead as well."

"So, do you have any family at all? Or am I just causing you unnecessary grief right now?"

"You ask this _after_ you finish killing off my immediate family?" I raised an eyebrow in mock anger.

"Oh. She has jokes." He smirked.

"I should have a few nieces and nephews running around somewhere." Nevermind that the living ones would probably be great-to-whatever-power-grand nieces and nephews.

"Well that's depressing."

"I'm sure your background isn't any better. Come on. Out with it." He looked me over, as if deciding whether or not I was worthy to recieve the information he was about to impart to me. He must have like what he saw.

"Had a mother, she died giving birth to my brother. Had a father. He's just dead." He said drolly.

"Well that's unfortunate."

"Yes extremely, especially since I don't have your luck."

"And what luck would that be?"

"Your brother's dead, but I can only wish death on mine." This could've seemed rude. But I was old, and I saw the pain in his eyes when he said what he said about his brother. Obviously, they had some issues to work out.

"If I was anyone else," I started slowly, measuring my words, "I would've been terribly offended by that statement and vowed never to talk to you again. If I was anyone else, I'd tell you that you shouldn't wish death on your family. But I don't know you or your reasons, and you don't know me. But I'm just me. No one else." I moved to pour him another drink. He seemed surprised at my speech and my actions.

"You should stick with the first option and never speak to me again." He said, staring down at his drink, swirling it in the glass.

"And I can tell that's what you think you want, but really, it's the opposite of what you need." He scoffed.

"Like you know anything."

"I know a lot, but I don't know everything." I replied vaguely.

"What are you, some sort of psychic?" He leered at me. By the conflict in his eyes, I could tell that while he was halfway joking, he was also somewhat serious. That intrigued me because it meant that at some level, Damon believed in the supernatural. And who really believes in the supernatural other than those that have been exposed to it, and those that were a part of it? It made me wonder which of these groups Damon belonged to.

"You'd like that wouldn't you? An answer about who I am in a neat little package?"

"Nah. I like the chase. I like figuring things out on my own." He said, glint in his eye.

"I'm sure." I drawled.

"We shouldn't be friends." He said suddenly, and suddenly serious. "It's not a good idea to make friends with me. I don't _do_ friends."

"First of all, who said we were friends." I quipped. "And second of all, that whole foreboding thing you're doing, someone beat you there already. His name was Edward Cullen, and spoiler alert, he gets the girl in the end." His serious demeanor broke at that.

"I don't understand how it always ends up with a discussion about Twilight." He murmured to himself. To me he said, "I didn't peg you for a Twilight fan." He chuckled somewhat.

"I'm not, I just had to see what all the hype was about. I have to stay in the loop with teen literature these days to understand the pop culture references everyone's making, you know." He shook his head, becoming serious once more.

"You should know that I'm a dangerous guy."

"I've been told I can be pretty dangerous myself." I responded, not batting an eyelash.

"I'm not nice. I can be a downright ass."

"I've been called a bitch by the best of them." I matched him.

"I attract a lot of trouble." He said, watching my eyes for the spike of emotion, fear in particular, that he was hoping to see. Too bad for him I was past feeling fear.

"Trouble's the only _interesting_ thing around nowadays." I replied smoothly, using his word-of-the-day.

"You're a strange one." He said.

"I've been told that too. Quick question, are you Manic Depressive? You're throwing out some pretty impressive, and contradicting, vibes."

"Probably," he started glumly, "I feel things much more deeply than the average _human_." For some reason, he was stressing the 'human' part of his response. Well, I guess I know what group he belongs to now.

"Well out with it, then. Tell me about this girl who broke your heart." He looked at me, shocked and suspicious.

"I never said anything about a girl."

"You didn't have to. Why else would two brothers be rooting for the death of the other?" I asked, hinting back at our earlier conversation. "There's always a dame involved. Didn't you know? Love triangles are all the rage. How that boring Bella girl managed to attract both a vampire and a werewolf still astounds me." He just looked at me, contemplating.

"Her name was Katerina. We knew her as Katherine."

"Oo. A false name. I like this story already." He just rolled his eyes and continued. He told me of a beautiful, amazing girl who had two brother wrapped around her figures, unknown to them. He finished the story with her tragic death, but while he was recalling the events, I couldn't help but to feel that he was leaving out quiet a big chunk of the facts. But, I decided to let sleeping things lie, he was already telling me something I could only guess not many people heard about. I decided to match his story he so graciously offered, with one of my own.

"I have a story too." I started.

"Oo, what about?" He sang, donning his playful mask again, wiping away all seriousness that the retelling of his history brought upon his face.

"I was actually born in India." His eyes widened in surprise.

"Really.." he urged me to continue.

"Yep, born and raised. I really only lived in England for a little while to go to secondary school. It was a private place, very dreary." On the days that we didn't accidentally release fae spirits from the realms. "But I digress, there was a story my Papa used to tell our guests. He would tell it all the time, it was his favorite. A real crowd pleaser too."

"Are we going to get to the story eventually? I have things to do, people to see..." Damon groused, playfully. I cut him a look.

"Yeah right." I said, filling his glass yet again. "Excuse me for getting caught up in the splendor of the past, I didn't interrupt you when you were talking." I frown.

"Yeah, yeah." He waved in a 'go ahead' gesture. I just sighed.

"Now where was I, oh yes." I remembered, gathering my thoughts, "When I was much younger, maybe four or five, still in India, I used to play out in the gardens all of the time. My parents thought nothing of it, the help was always around, there were many eyes on me. Most days, it was fine, I was safe out there, but then there was the whole thing about the garden being just on the edge of the wilds. One day, my Papa was out there with me, a little ways away, reading the paper. I was in the field, stick in my hand, I imagine I must have had a right good imagination. Apparently I was a knight in shining armor, fighting off my enemies." I gave a small smile, pausing for a second, trying to remember the actual occurrence and not just my father's recollection of it. Like always, it escaped me. "And that was when the tiger showed himself."

"Hold on, you didn't say anything about a tiger in the summary of this. How am I supposed to believe you're telling the truth? Pshhht! A tiger."

"I guess you'll never know if I'm telling the truth or not since you weren't there, but is it so hard to believe that a tiger would be lurking in an undeveloped part of India?" He looked as though he was considering the plausibility. "Exactly, so like I was saying," looking at him pointedly, "I was 'sword-playing' when this gigantic tiger comes out of the woodworks. According to Papa, I set down my stick, and bowed to the tiger saying 'If you have honorable intentions, you may pass without fear.'" I gave an almost silent chuckle then. "Can you believe that? That I was a blimey four-year old talking to a tiger without fear?"

"Then what happened?"

"The tiger walked away, and my Papa came rushing down to me, taking me inside. For the longest time, I thought that was the end of the story. That was as far as he got whenever he would tell it at any of our social gatherings. It wasn't until years later, when he was having an especially lucid moment on his sickbed that he told me what happened afterward. He hired men, to take him through the jungle, to track the tiger that did no one harm. And when he found the tiger, he shot him dead."

"Aren't tigers on the endangered species list?" Damon asked, ruining the moment. Because of his antics, I had to suppress a smile.

"That's the not the point Damon, the point is, he didn't kill the tiger because he was brave, he killed it out of fear." He let that stew for a moment.

"Why do I feel like there's some sort _message_ you wanted me to gain from that story?"

"What kind of bartender would I be if didn't riddle your mind with all sorts of interesting conundrums?"

"A normal one?" He snarked.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. The stories of my life don't come without a price. One day when you need some advice, I'll pop up in your head, spewing this story, and you'll finally understand."

"So you're telling me... that the price of your story... is an all access pass of _you_ in my mind? I can deal with that." I just gave him a bland look and went to serve the other customers I had neglected during my extended chat with him.

Months later, I would reflect on this moment as the day when Damon Salvatore began to trust me. I would realize that this story he told me was the closest thing to the truth that he could give me, without exposing the existence of...other beings in the world. Like I didn't already know.

* * *

**And that seemed like an ending, did it not? Never fear, it wasn't long enough for me so I decided to add some more. ;)**

* * *

I had been invited to the Founder's Ball by the Mayor wife. It was strange, I hadn't had much interaction with her since I'd moved into town. I stuck to my normal haunts, the Grille, the dress shop, my apartment, places she would _never_ be seen at, but somehow she cornered me while I was taking a break in the park to invite me.

*flashback*

_The sunshine that had been previously warming my body was momentarily shaded by someone walking in front of me. That person soon sat down next to me on the bench were I had been relaxing my eyes, previously reading, and cleared their throat daintily to get my attention. I opened one of my eyelids to see if the person asking for my attention was worthy of getting it, and seeing that it was Mrs. Lockwood, the mayor's wife, aroused my curiosity. I sat up from my leaned back posture and gave her my undivided attention._

_"How are you Gemma?" She asked me, smile to perfect to be real, and eyes too steely just to be giving a greeting._

_"I am well, Mrs. Lockwood. How are you this lovely afternoon?" I asked, matching her smile. My gentile training coming out._

_"Wonderful, thank you so much for asking." She pushed her perfectly coiffed hair back, not that it was in her eyes or anything. "Listen, the town's annual founder's ball is coming up soon." I nodded, feigning interest. I was so over balls, nothing good ever happened at them. "And usually, only descendants of founders and their guests are invited." Which meant basically the whole town minus a few. "However, Gemma, you have caught my eye. You're new to town and just looking at you I know that you were born from class." Well, she wasn't wrong. "I am making an exception and giving you a standing invitation to all founder related activities - bar the meetings - for as long as you stay in our delightful town."_

_"Well, that is awfully generous of you Mrs. Lockwood." And strange, I didn't know why she was inviting me anywhere. "But you're far too kind. I don't want to make you break any rules for me."_

_"Nonsense, dear." I was way older than her. "It's my pleasure." Now I was sure that she had ulterior motives, just like basically everyone else, but I could tell she was used to getting her way and I wasn't going anywhere until I accepted._

_"Well, I suppose I'll see you at the party then?"_

_"Wonderful, you'll soon see that you've made the right choice. Only the cream-of-the crop is granted entrance. I'll put you on the list right away. Also, Gemma, I wonder...have you ever seen the Queen?" So we were getting to the root of her generosity._

_"Never had a full conversation with her, but she did acknowledge me during my début into society." At this Mrs. Lockwood gave out what could've been classified as a girlish screech had she not been well into her forties._

_"That is amazing. You have to tell me all about it." And then I got it. Mrs. Lockwood was an anglophile. Well, whatever worked in my favor._

*end flashback*

I arrived to the founder's party, stag, and gave my name to the large man at the door whose black suit, shades, and ear piece screamed security. I was waved through with a terse nod, and I found myself

"I thought you and Blondie were through?" I asked over a glass of champagne.

"You seem quite interested there Gem. Are you upset I didn't escort you?"

"Just an observation, _Damie_ , don't get ahead of yourself." I said, sipping the cool, bubbly liquid.

"Is that jealousy I detect Miss Gemma?" He lifted his eyebrow.

"Only if your feeling your own jealousy. Like I said, it was only an observation."

"What brings you over on this side of town? I was beginning to think that you only existed in the bar."

"Oh sure, of course. It's the presence of all that liquor that keeps me anchored to this plane of existence."

"I knew it..." He played along. "But really, I didn't know you had friends in high places."

"Indeed, did you know that back when I was part of the social scene in London I was 82nd in line for the throne."

"Really? So only 81 people had to die for you to be crowned? That's doable."

"I knew I wasn't the only one who thought so. Mrs. Lockwood just loved that little tidbit. Ready for a secret? She was the one who organized my admittance."

"Whaaat? Well, you just have the most important woman in town wrapped around your little finger, don't you?"

"I assure you, it wasn't by choice."

"You know, the Salvatores are a pretty important family in Mystic Falls." Somehow he had gotten ahold of my arm and started guiding me to a room off to the side of the main hallway. When we stopped, he gestured to an old-looking sheet of parchment, enclosed in a glass case. After looking it over, two names popped out to me, Damon and Stefan Salvatore. I repeated them aloud.

"Yes, the original Salvatore brothers. They were here for the first ever founder's ball. You see, our family's practically royalty here." Knowing everything I knew, I found it highly unlikely that brothers with that much animosity toward each other just so happened to have namesakes that attended the first founder's ball. But, in the spirit of all things fallacious, I decided to play my part of ignorant bystander.

"Oh really?" I looked around the room, spotting an abandoned tray of champagne, I grabbed three, and returned to him, handing over only one. I was a growing girl, I needed my alcohol no matter how meager it may be. "Well, since we're both _practically_ royalty, it only makes sense to celebrate with a toast." We clanged our flutes with all the finesse of the well bred sods we were.

"You know, you're a lot more...talkative outside of work."

"Blame it on the alcohol, love. They don't let me partake enough while I'm on the clock." At that moment in time, I felt like a layer of Damon Salvatore's façade was about to be peeled back for me to see his inner workings, unfortunately, we were interrupted by Jeremy's sister, who somehow got away from her date, Damon's brother. In the span of a few milliseconds, Damon's guard went back up to full lock down, and resolve flashed in his eyes.

"I couldn't help but overhear you talking about the original Salvatore brothers." Elena started. He flashed me what I knew to be a parting grin and he turned to face her. Damon was a man with a plan. I didn't know what that plan was, didn't really care to know, so I took my champagne and made my way to the exit. Before I was completely out of the room, I turned back to see Damon looking at me. He sent me a rather serious nod, I replied with a cheeky wink and a tip of my glass, leaving him to speak with Elena, passing both Stefan and Blondie on my way out. I was cornered by Mrs. Lockwood again, and forced to regale her with modified stories of my time at Spence. I didn't see Damon for the rest of the night.


	6. That Time I Saved Your Arse

Damon hadn't been spotted at the Grille for a few days. I wasn't concerned. No, I was merely interested, curious about what was keeping him. Did whatever he was angling for at the founder's ball pay off leaving him with no reason to stay in the town any longer? I would hope not. I found him rather charming when he wasn't being downright irritating and I'd hope we were at a point in this... _friendship_ , that he would at least give a quick farewell before departing. No matter, I was a big girl and whether or not he chose to acknowledge me did not determine my mood for the day. It was no use getting attached to anyone anyway.

Still, there was a niggling feeling in my gut that had me on edge. It was like those feelings you get when you leave the iron on at home when you've gone to work. And not knowing _why_ I was feeling this was making me severely displeased. One thing that did set off my radar was the younger Salvatore brother. His normal broody disposition was no more. He was brighter, happier, and a lighter step in his walk. Sure these differences were very minute, I only caught them because I'm a bartender and before that I had _years_ to work on my observation skills, but to me, these observations, paired with Damon's seeming disappearance, made me awfully suspicious.

I had my ear to the floor, trying to pick up bits and pieces of conversations that may have given me clues about his whereabouts, but the residents of Mystic Falls were a egocentric bunch. They didn't notice the absence of someone who had become such a staple in at least the bar community. Or perhaps I was at fault for reading too much into his absence. I decided to find out when his brother came to the bar to give his order.

"Uh hey. Can I get two number fours to go please?" He asked, I nodded, moving to the kitchen to place the order. Through trial and error, I have found that the best fact finding strategy for me is to be straightforward. Don't get me wrong, I can be silver-tongued when the situation calls for it, but bluntness is my specialty. So I decided to use it here.

"So I've noticed that your brother hasn't been around drinking up all my alcohol stores lately. He go out of town?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in my versions of my mother's tell-me-all-your-secrets face.

"Um, oh, Damon? Yeah, he went out of town on business. It's very demanding, he probably won't be back for quite a while." Now, I didn't know what kind of supernatural Damon - and by extension - Stefan was. But I was of the firm belief that anyone in any supernatural group should have the wits about them to lie convincingly, and Stefan was not doing a very good job. He was trying to come off as an innocent party, but I heard the doublespeak, the incorporation of the truth into a lie to make it easier spoken. I'm sure that Damon wouldn't be back for _quite_ a while, but Stefan's frame of reference and mine could be wildly different, changing the whole meaning.

I found it highly unlikely that a brothers with such bad blood between them would be so forthcoming and joyous in any news pertaining the other. Stefan was hiding something, and as soon as work was over I'd be heading over to the Salvatore Boarding House to see what was going on. Stefan's order came up, and after I gave it to him, he left, not without sparing me a interested glance that I'm sure he thought I didn't notice. Jeremy came in a little after him, and came to sit across from me at the bar. I hadn't seen him in a while, so it made my day a smidge better.

"Baby Gilbert, to what do I owe the extreme pleasure of you gracing me with your presence?" I asked, albeit a bit sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah Gemma, calm down with all of that. I just decided that I didn't feel like doing my homework at home, so I decided to do it here, maybe talk a bit with my friend that works here."

"It's Vicki's day off." I replied, sourly.

"I was talking about you." At that I smiled.

"I was hoping you were. So what's on the agenda?" I asked, cleaning off the bar top with a rag.

"Oh, my new history teacher has me doing a report on...something. Get this, his name is Alaric Saltzman, I think he wants the class to think he's cool or whatever. He wants us to call him Ric." He rolled his eyes.

"How interesting." I replied. "Oh yes, I do suppose that a new history teacher was in the works, after what happened to that other one. Nasty business that. Have to make sure you're being careful after dark here, what with that _wild animal_ on the loose."

"You talk like you don't think that it's a wild animal at all Gemma."

"Whatsoever gave that notion, dear Jeremy?"

"Hmm. Whatever." He gained a speculative look in his eyes, then asked me another question. "Does everyone from the UK talk like you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know, like proper. Really proper, yeah sure sometimes you use slang and it's like your acting your age, and then other times, it's like your a old lady or something?" I had to smile at the brash way he was explaining himself to me. I didn't care to admit it, but he was right. Sometimes I slipped into my old way of speaking, that Victorian English that only some of those in high society still spoke. It was a part of me still, albeit a very old part. Old and ingrained.

"You know Jeremy, you're a very observant person. Way more observant that most of the people in the town. You'll probably uncover some pretty interesting information because of it. In fact, I'd wager that because of how detail oriented you are, you'll either put yourself in danger, or be a real asset to someone that needs help, and possibly both."

"You didn't answer the question."

"Indeed I didn't."

"Well anyway, I didn't do my last assignment, so he cut me some slack and allowed me to make it up."

"So I'm guess that he's not that bad of a guy?"

"He's not that bad of a person, but he's still a teacher."

"And of course, teachers are the villains to the heroes that are students." I mocked.

"Whatever. Like I was saying, I found some old notebooks, journals even, in my house. They belonged to my ancestor that was alive back when the town was being founded. This guy was mad crazy, he wrote about demons and monsters plaguing that town, roaming the streets at night. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you and him were up talking about the things that go bump in the night."

"Silly boy."

"I'm planning on writing my report on him. It's way more interesting on anything else in the history books." And with that, he began reading the journals and I went back to work.

Finished with my shift, I gathered my belongings quickly, intent on heading over to the boarding house as soon as possible. The sun was still out, maybe three or four hours from sunset, and I knew that Stefan was going to be at the high school's car wash. The only wildcard was going to be Uncle Salvatore, Zak. I didn't know much about him but I had measures in place to make sure his presence was not an issue.

What I didn't account for at all was Blondie being here. She was walking, I assumed she was just coming from the car wash since she had her swim suit on underneath her loose summer clothes. There was a glazed look in her eyes as she headed to the front door and walked in without knocking. Something was going on and I wanted to know what it was, so I donned my notice-me-not spell and followed her.

I don't think she consciously knew what was going on. It really seemed like she was sleep walking. Last minute turns, bouts of standing in one spot for a while, I'm surprised she didn't get caught by Zak by the way things were going. Finally she made it to a large, sturdy bolted door, which when unlocked made a resounding click. Loud enough, I'd wager, to alert Zak if he were anywhere around. Following Caroline down the dungeon-esque steps, I awaited his arrival to the party.

It seemed that Blondie's destination was a _cell_ at the end of the basement/dungeon hallway. The whole set up was a little too old world for my tastes. Looking into the window of the cell was none other than Damon, the man I'd been searching for, looking quite peaky, surrounded by strange green plants tying to convince a now frightened looking Caroline to unlock his prison. First thing that ran through my mind was that Stefan was a lying bastard. Second thing was a train of thought focusing on reasons that Damon was being detained, other than the obvious sibling issues. I think this went well past that.

I was so involved in my thoughts I missed Blondie unlocking the door, which resulted in Zak coming out of nowhere yelling, "Noooo!" Blondie ran away like a scared rabbit, and Zak tried to lock and secure Damon's door, but he was too close to the window and I could see Damon's intent in his eyes.

Unveiling myself, I pushed Zak out of the way just as Damon's arm was coming down to strangle him. I quickly locked the door and stepped away, hearing Damon's angered growl resonate through me, drawing my attention toward him to really look at him for the first time today.

The whites of his eyes were now red, the irises still blue, a striking contrast. Black veins webbed underneath his eyes, and elongated canines graced his mouth. All and all, it was a very dramatic look. Turning back to Zak, I refocused his attention.

"I think it's time for you to go on vacation. I really think you've earned it."

He looked at me then, taking his gaze off of Damon. His right hand was rubbing his neck, belatedly realizing how close to death by broken neck he had become. Well, I guess those are just the chances you take when you run with vamps.

"Don't you?" I reinforced. "I mean, other people can hold down the fort here. Personally, I think there's too much drama. You should go somewhere to forget, where all the worries are superficial." He found himself nodding with my logic. I handed him a large wad of money. "Pack a small bag, only what you need. Then get out of here." He nodded again, taking the money. Then he turned and ran upstairs.

Damon had been watching the precedings almost silently, the random snarl interrupting every so often. His eyes were now completely focused on me.

"What are you?" He asked.

"So a vampire, huh?" I said, not answering his question. "I have seen a lot in my life but I can't say I ever met a vampire before."

"So you're not a vampire, yet you're taking all of this so calmly. What are you?" He asked.

"What can I do for you Damon?"

"Let me out!" He roared. Rattling the cell bars.

"I want to, but Damie, you're a bit too feral for me at the moment." I said, waving at his exaggerated features. "I'll let you out, as soon as you're not gunning for my neck. You don't seem to like those plants too much. Are they the source of your discomfort? What can I do to make it better for you _before_ I let you out so you don't go on a rampage?" He sighed, fight left out of him, and all that was left was only thinly veiled curiosity, that and hunger.

"I'm thirsty." He said softly.

"And what would you like me to bring you?"

"In the next room there's a fridge full of blood bags. Bring them to me." He said after sighing again. Fifteen bags later and he was looking so much better. I unlocked and swung open the door to his cell. He considered me for a moment, before using what I can only guess was super speed to run upstairs. When I heard a slew of angry cuss words, I hastened my following of him.

There he was, hiding in the shadows, glaring at the light. I could see part of him was burnt. I was confused, having seen him plenty of times coming into the bar from the sunny outdoors, but I chalked it up to having something to do with the terms of his imprisonment. He wasn't healing, so I held my wrist in front of his mouth, startling him. The fact that he was surprised didn't stop him from holding onto my arm.

"You are very strange indeed Gemma. You're offering up your vein to a hungry vampire."

"I just fed you, this is just for the burns. Only a few pulls from you sir, or else you'll be getting something else you definitely didn't ask for.

His hold on my arm turned into something more restricting as he lowered his head, eyes still on mine. When his teeth sunk into my skin though, his eyes snapped shut and a rumbling moan was released from him, traveling up and into me. Having my blood sucked by a vampire wasn't exactly what I was expecting. To sum it up, I was not wholly displeased with the experience. Yes, his fangs hurt piercing my skin, but when he started pulling, there was only a tingling feeling that traversed my body, concentrating on some of my more neglected areas.

If you catch my drift.

And then it was over. He retracted his fangs and spend a good two minutes licking the wound he left behind. When I though he was finally finished, he prolonged our contact by piercing his own finger with a fang. He rubbed my marks with the blood that welled up on his finger, until there was no evidence left of the deed.

He released my arm, straightening up and clearing his throat. I suppose trying to get back into the cool and collected type that he personified.

"What are you?" He asked again, searching for something in my eyes.

"I'm just me. Same old Gemma." I answered with a small smirk.

"Okay." He rolled his eyes. "How did you know I was here?"

"I didn't. I came here to do a little detective work. Your brother's a smarmey liar. Imagine my surprise when I followed little Caroline to your holding place. What was that plant?" He regarded me for a moment.

"Vervain. It acts as as poison of sorts to us vampires. What other creatures have you come across?"

"What ever do you mean?" I asked coyly.

"Don't play with me. Earlier you said you'd seen a lot of things but never a vampire. What other types of things?"

"Well twist my arm why don't you. I'm more familiar with creatures of the fae realms. I also know a bit about wolves and...witches."

"Werewolves?" He laughed. "Werewolves don't exist." He looked so sure of himself.

"Says you. With the amount of murders in the town, which I now believe the cause to be vampires," I gave him a scathing look, "I imagine wolves will be cropping out of the woodwork eventually. Sooner than later probably." I finished, more to myself.

"So you talked to my brother."

"Yep. He's the reason I came over here right after work. He was entirely too happy at your absence."

"Yeah. I'm going to have to have a few choice words with Steffie. And Zak, what sort of witchie mojo did you put on him to make him leave so easily."

"That, dear Damon, was only the power of suggestion at work. No magic necessary. You made my job very easy with that stunt you pulled just moments before. And about that Damon, really? I know there's bad blood between you and your brother, but what did your uncle do to deserve that treatment?"

"One, he's my great-many-times nephew. Two, he helped Stefan plan this! You're supposed to be on my side here Gemma! What happened to no judgement?"

"First, I'm on team Gemma 'til the end. Since you're my bar-buddy I guess I can be on team Damon too, to an extent." I levelled him with a look. "Second, how old are you to have a thirty-something year old great-something nephew?"

"We're _buddies_ now Gem? What kind of buddies?" He wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously.

"Not _that_ kind of buddy. I would think that me coming down here and saving your arse, and apparently bloodline, would prove our, dare I say it, relationship to you. Now stop being evasive and answer the bloody question."

"Careful Gem, if you keep cursing in that adorable accent I may have to keep you." I just looked at him. "Fine, I was changed when I was twenty-four."

"Are we really having _this_ moment?" I groused. "And how long, pray tell, have you been twenty-four?"

"Since 1864."

"Well damn Grandpa!" I chuckled.

"Hardy-har-har Gemma. Just yuck it up over there. Now, since you're team Damon now, I need you to do me a favor." He had his arm around my shoulders and was guiding me to the door.

"Whoa, whoa Mister. I said I was on your team, not your lackey." He gave me a pitiful look.

"But Gem, I can't leave the house until nightfall. Stefan took my daylight ring." Hmmm. So that's how he could be out in the light. "I just need you to send a little message to Stefan for me."

"Don't you think this little partnership we have going here would be more effective the fewer amount of people knew about it? I mean, it's always the people who have the unknown allies who win in the end."

"...You're right. But how else am I supposed to get a message to him?" I gave him a bland look.

"You've a mobile. Use it."

"Not as dramatic, but serviceable."

"Ok, well, if that's all I'm going to take a nap. Try not to get detained again." I said, walking to the door.

"If I do, I'll just call you to help me. Now that I've had your blood, I'll be able to summon you."

"What, like Caroline?"

"Exactly."

"Well, you'll find Mr. Salvatore, that things that work on other people don't really work on me. But you know that already, don't you?" I responded, closing the door behind me.

* * *

When Gemma left, I felt for the first time in my undead life, anxious. Not even all the years I had been searching for Katherine had I felt something like this. It had to have something to do with her blood. Oh that blood, it was magnificent. The best blood I'd ever had in my life. I never thought I'd say this, but it was better than sex, not that I'd ever admit that out loud. Which begged the question, what would sex with her be like?

But more importantly, what was she? Human? Or some type of supernatural? She wasn't a vampire, nor werewolf - the jury was still out on their existence - nor fae creature - not that I'd ever met one and known about it. So was she human, or a witch? She said she didn't use any magic to make Zak leave. So human, or some other supernatural I'd never come across before?

No doubt about it, she was addicting. Her presence, her blood, her mystery. I'd never admit it, but she was allowed to hang around me as long as she wanted.


	7. That Understanding We Have

I awoke to the sound of pecking on my window and cursed the Gods for letting a measly bird be the cause of my interrupted nap. Sure it was well into nighttime, but I had to take my sleep where I could get it. Getting up, I moved to the window to get a glance at this audacious bird. It was a large crow, other than its size and creepy way it was watching my every move, his eyes were also a bit of a startling factor. They were blue, I'm pretty sure crows didn't have blue eyes, that they couldn't. Yet here this beast was, looking just like a cocky Damon down to the shade of those eyes. Salvatore... A new thought erupted inside of me, somehow, this bird was connected to him, there was no way I could continue to believe in coincidence with all I'd see. Looking back on the precious little I thought knew about vampires, shape-shifting was out, this was not physically Damon outside of my window. Mentally though, that was a cloth of a whole different color. I remember reading something about the bond between vampire and familiar allowing the vampire to see through the familiar's eyes. That perv. The was creeping on me via crow. Taking a risk, I opened the window, crow in my crosshairs.

"You know crow, I wonder if vampires are able to just enter your house at will or if they're subject subject being invited in. Because if the latter is the case. Damon's never getting in here. Ever." The crow cawed loudly at this. Probably upset. "Just kidding." I looked the crow straight in the eye and said, "Damon, wherever you are, you're invited into my house. Won't you please come in?"

Then I closed the window and pulled the blinds, making my way to the kitchen to start dinner. Not even five minutes later, Damon appeared on a stool behind me.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Lucky guess." I smirked. He just shook his head.

"You are one brave human." he complimented, I guess.

"Not really," I sighed, "when I was young, that's when I was brave. Now? Now I'm just here. Purposeless." He didn't have anything to say to that.

"Why did you invite me in?"

"I trust you." I said after a moment. His eyebrows turned down.

"You shouldn't." He growled.

"Let me rephrase. I don't trust that you'll save my life if somehow the situation could end badly for yourself. I do trust that you won't kill me yourself without a reason, thus, I have no problem inviting you into my home." He seemed to consider that. "Damon, you and I are on the same page. I may be on your team, but I'm on my team first and foremost. And since apparently I, and the rest of the world, can just enter your home whenever the urge strikes, I figured I would be nice and even the playing field." He nodded, slowly. "So what we're you up to the rest of the day?" I asked.

"Well, Stefan didn't want to give me my ring back after the civil cellphone message I gave him. So I gave him a different message, one written in blood."

"And who were the unfortunate parties this time around?"

"All the druggies that hang out in the clearing." Oh no, Jeremy. "Except not the Gilbert kid, he wasn't there this time." Thank the Gods. "That one girl, strong jaw, nice lips, she just keeps popping up, but I think I got her good this time."

"That's too bad, Matt's a good kid, he won't be the same when he finds out his sister had another run in with the _wild animal_."

"You aren't taking this like I thought you would."

"And just how was I supposed to take it?"

"Yelling and screaming about how bad it is to take lives. Maybe a little pale because of the nonchalance I emit when I'm talking about death."

"I don't see why you'd want that to happen. The only situation where I may turn into that person is if you mess with Baby Gilbert. He's mine."

"Gotcha. I didn't know you were into cradle robbing."

"He reminds me of my brother. Kill him and it's on. Anyways, about that whole death thing, I have no doubt that you've been the cause of way more deaths than I, but I'm not a stranger to it. And your diet? Aren't you supposed to drink human blood? What are you supposed to do, live off of bunny blood? Lame! Going against your nature is repressive and dangerous to your health, not to mention everyone around you. Not that you care about them." I amended.

"Is it possible for you to explain this to Stefan? He just doesn't get it." He said, shaking his head and looking at me incredulously.

"Not without blowing my cover."

"Well later then. What's this about killing people, huh? Are you a serial killer? Is that why you're so comfortable around me?"

"Um. No. Just because I've killed does not make me a serial killer. It was out of necessity. Someone had to do it. It was a long time ago nevertheless."

"You keep a lot of secrets locked up tight in that pretty little head of yours. Tell me more of them. Why are you so mysterious?"

"Damon, don't you realize that you've learned more about me in the last day than anyone else in the last decade? This doesn't happen. I make a real effort not to make friends. There's something wrong with this town. There's something in the water. You're not getting anything else out of me Salvatore."

"We aren't friends." He said quickly and sharply. I chuckled humorlessly.

"Don't kid yourself Damie, we share secrets, we engage in witty banter, I gave you some of my life force. We aren't enemies, so that leaves us at friends. Don't fight it. You really can't win."

* * *

**Damon POV**

"Where have you been?" Asked a voice coming from the darkened corner of the sitting room. Some people are just so dramatic. I ignored it for the time being, more interested in pouring myself a glass or two of Scotch. "Damon." Called that voice again, tired irritation clearly present.

"Oh Steffie, I didn't see you there. How was your day? I'm sure the car wash was exciting."

"I'm sure my day wasn't nearly as exciting as yours. How did you manage to escape?"

"You're right, my day had to have been more exciting. I called Caroline to come get me. You know Caroline, blonde, quite ditzy, pretty tasty as well. Well she came, but right as she was about to completely open the door, our beloved, meddlesome nephew appeared. Almost messed everything up too. Good thing his neck was so close to the bars..." I trailed off suggestively.

"You killed Zak?! Damon, he was the last of our family! How could you." Stefan was freaking out pacing, running his hands haphazardly through his superhero hair. So that's how he got it that way. It was interesting to know that his guilt was the reason for his hairstyle, I always thought it was the gel.

"Well what can I say? " I took another sip of my drink, shrugging. "When Damon's ring gets taken and hidden by his little brother, heads will roll." Now that I was no longer driven by my thirst and could think clearly, I was glad Gemma had stopped me from ending our bloodline. But I'd let Stefan stew in guilt nice and long. "Oh before I forget, I left you a little present. Out in that clearing, you know, where all the undesirables hang out. I cleaned up most of it, but you might want to get there before the firetrucks." He sped out of the house. "And I want my ring back!" I yelled after him.

It was the next day, and the sun was shining oh-so-brightly, but of course I couldn't enjoy it since Stefan still hadn't returned my daylight ring! And to top it all off, that girl Vicky was still alive. Oh well. I was getting so irritated, and bored. There was nothing to do, no lives to wreck. But wait, yes, there was one more thing I could do while I waited. Vicky. I had taken her blood plenty of times, I could call her down her and we could have some fun. That girl knew how to party.

Several drinks, a blood exchange, and a broken neck later, I was bored again, waiting for Vicky to wake up into her new life as a vampire. I was interrupted from my thoughts by my ringing phone. The caller ID read 'Ruby.' I was pretty sure that I didn't know any Rubys, at least any that would still be alive. Ruby, ruby, ruby, Is a gem. Gem. Gemma. That sly vixen. When did she even get a hold of my phone?

"Damon Salvatore's fantasy hotline, you imagine it, I'll make it happen." I answered, smirking.

"Cute." She replied sourly. "I assume that since I'm not seeing you at the bar, Stefan hasn't given you your ring back."

"Aw, that fact that you're using your break to call me makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside."

"Damon..." she started, warningly.

"You assumed correctly. But don't worry, I made a new friend, so I wouldn't be bored while I can't see you."

"Should I be worried?"

"Not particularly. Turns out Vicki Donovan wasn't dead." She let out a surprised noise. "So I _persuaded_ her to come visit me. And... now she's dead again."

"Of course. Well, that would explain why she didn't come into work today. So now what? You're waiting for her to wake up and turn into a zombie?" I could almost hear her eyes rolling.

"Not a zombie. A vampire, like me. Don't you know how vamps are made?"

"Well now I do. Anyway, my break's over, have fun with your baby vamp. I'm sure she'll be a riot."

"I'm sure she won't be as great as you. And I _would_ invite you over, except she might be a little _overzealous_ the first couple of months. Actually, what the heck, come on over after work, it'll be fine."

"Yes. I'm going to pass on that. And I foresee that this whole plan of yours is going to end... not as you expected." Well that was cryptic.

"What? You mean with Vicki?"

"No, I mean the whole thing. The big plan that you have somewhere in your manipulative brain."

"I'm not sure if that was a complement or not, but, would you care to elaborate on that?"

"Nope, that's all I have for you right now."

"I feel like I keep asking you this question, and you keep side-stepping it. What are you?"

"You're completely right. See you later Damon." And she hung up. Without answering my question. Again. It made me wonder if she'd ever answer me. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the excitement it brought to the table. Every other woman I ran into over the years was so easy, so ready to please me. Not Katherine, and not her. I couldn't get a straight answer out of either of them, but with Gemma there was no sinister undercurrent like with Katherine. But that didn't matter, I waited all this time to save Katherine from the tomb, Gemma would be a nice distraction while I waited, but in the end, I was here for one Katherine Pierce. I was roused from my thoughts by some movement from Vicki. Heavy thoughts aside, it was time for some fun.

* * *

**Gemma POV**

"So I hear from Jeremy that Vicki ran away." I told Damon when he popped in for a drink. It had been a few days since our last conversation.

"Is that so?" He replied, sipping his drink and feigning innocence.

"Yes, and on the night of the Halloween dance at the high school. Quite an auspicious occasion for such a disappearance, oh, I meant what a day to pick for traveling." I found it hard to keep my smile hidden at my slip of tongue.

"Of course you did. You know, I don't know what to think of you, Gemma."

"Who said you should be thinking about me, Damon." I mocked.

"You have insight on things that by all means you shouldn't know about. You say cryptic things all of the time. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a witch." He continued as if I hadn't even spoken.

"And you would know all about witches, wouldn't you?"

"There you go again. I don't know if I should kill you, or keep you."

"You know, I never was pleased with the idea of being a kept woman after marriage."

"Hah, like anyone would want to marry a bitter bartender like you." He joked.

* * *

**Damon POV**

"I was married once..." she said, quietly, dreamlike in quality. A glance to her face showed me that her eyes were glazed, like she was recalling something from her past. "I had other suitors, they would have made sure I was kept. Kept occupied, kept quiet, kept in a woman's place." She paused, still looking into the past. I decided that this was the most straightforward and forthcoming she'd ever been, so I made sure not to distract her. Even going so far as to glare at the other customers that may have succeeded in breaking her out of her trace by requesting a refill. "But not him. He was exciting, and forbidden, and the only one I wanted. The only one I've ever wanted."

I saw how she ran her thumb across her left ring finger, caressing it almost, and I noticed a small tattoo that ran around the finger I had never noticed before. It was a series of interlocking rings connected to what seemed to be a name, but because of her position across the bar, and the position of her thumb, I could only make out one letter, K. She snapped out of the past soon enough, going back to cleaning glasses. I decided to try my luck and ask a few questions before she shut down on me.

"So, what happened to Prince Charming then?"

"What happens to anyone?" She asked rhetorically, sadly. "They die." I could see by the way that her eyes hardened that she was done talking about herself for the day. What I didn't see was her targets refocusing on me. "You'd know all about that, Damon, wouldn't you? Or perhaps not. You told me that Katherine died in a fire, as I'm sure you tell anyone that asks, but I'm not so sure that's how it happened."

"And what would you know about my life?" I said, not comfortable with how right she was.

"I would know the difference between losing someone forever, and losing them for just a little while. You, sir, have the look of a man that is tired of waiting, but still hopeful. You, Damon, are pining. Which means you _have_ lost someone, but not to death. It means that there's still a chance that you'll meet them again. So, that being said, is there any story you've told me that you'd like to edit?" I didn't know what to think. I _knew_ she was intuitive. I _knew_ that she knew more that she let on. But I didn't know how close she would get to knowing the _truth_ without me telling her. I took a moment to gather my thoughts.

Sure it was hard knowing that she was ghosting near my closest kept secrets, but it didn't altogether feel wrong. I weighed the pros and cons of telling her the truth, the whole truth, before my plan even came to fruition. Before I even knew more about her and her allegiances. I didn't find many cons at all.

"You're right. I've been waiting for someone."

"And how long have you been waiting for her?"

"Only 145 years." She let out a low whistle.

"Not quite a little while, but definitely much shorter than forever."

"I guess." I managed to bark out a humorless laugh. Another pause. "I'll tell you. The real story. But not here, I'll meet you Friday, after work, at your place." I drank to the dregs of my glass and got up. "Thanks for the drink." I said as I left.

"By the way," she called, I stopped to listen but didn't turn around, "I wasn't always a bartender, and I wasn't always bitter. That's a relatively new development." That last part was murmured, but I still picked up on it.

As I recalled our conversation later on in the day, I remembered the phrases she'd used. Plenty of girls during this period didn't know what a kept woman was, but she did. And a 'woman's place?' That was really old school. Seems dear Gemma had a few things to answer for as well.


	8. That Big Musical Number Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I'm writing my stories, they play out like a movie or whatever in my mind. And I just love musicals... Doesn't mean that this "episode" if you will, will be in musical form, but I do love when characters are put in a position where they amaze everybody with a talent that no one knew they had. So ladies and gents, get ready to have your mind blown. Or not, I don't know what floats your boat. And as a reminder, I don't own anything at all except the situations. And if from this point on you could imagine that every song sung belongs to/was written by the person singing it, unless otherwise noted, that would be awesome possum.

The manager of the Mystic Grille decided that it was time to class-up the bar/hangout spot. And what better way than to hire live entertainment? I wasn't sold on the whole live band every Friday thing, but I was a bartender, not a performer, so as long as the manager didn't add anything to my job description and I didn't have to do anything extra on those nights, I was fine with it. Besides, knowing the attitudes of the townsfolk, this idea had a good chances of becoming a Mystic Falls version of American Idol, complete with funnily rude remarks courtesy of a roomful of Simons. It could turn out to be entertaining.

The group booked for tonight was some sort of Indie band from a few towns over. More than likely they were a bunch of stoner teenagers looking to capitalize on a unknown bar looking for unknown talent. It was whatever, I just stood behind the bar, participating in my favorite pastime of cleaning glasses. I found that the more I had my hands busy, the fewer people will ask for anything. Well, people other than Damon. He would still tell you to bring him a bottle of Bourbon if you were bleeding out, dying on the floor. And speak of the Devil...

"Bar-keep!" That blue-eyed Devil called, slapping his hand on the table. "A glass of your finest Scotch and keep it coming." He smirked at me, knowing I hated it when people called me anything but my name. Actually, I'd rather if people didn't call me at all. I sighed, setting down the glass I had been polishing in front of him, reaching under the bar for his favorite Scotch.

"Don't call me that, Damon." I said, pouring him a glass.

"How about Bar-Temptress instead?" I just glared. "Anyway, make that two glasses. I have an...acquaintance meeting me here." I quirked my eyebrow as I reached for another tumbler.

"What? Damon, you're bringing your lady friends around me now? I think we skipped a few steps in our relationship."

"So you finally admit that we do have a relationship." He leered at me. All I could do was roll my eyes. "You know, were still have to have that talk." He murmured lowly. "But, unfortunately no, this is a male -" Once again he changed the conversation, moving back to what he had been talking about earlier. I followed suit, trying to keep the jovial atmosphere going for as long as possible. It was promising to be a very soul bearing night.

"I knew you were to good to be true. You had to bat for the other team." I covered my heart with my hand, and fluttered my eyelashes dramatically. It took him a while to understand my insinuation, but when he did, his eyes widened comically and he spluttered, choking on his drink. I couldn't stop my small smile from forming at his expense.

"What? No, no, no, no. I am not gay. I like women, and breasts. Women, not men."

"Uh-huh." I nodded condescendingly, disbelievingly.

"But I'm not!" He denied fervently.

"I'm surprised no one has said that to you sooner." Added a new voice. It was a handsome man, ruggedly so, with what seemed to be a permanent five o'clock shadow and warm, but serious, brown eyes. I had seen him around before, but we had never been introduced. His name slipped my mind. He sat down in front of the second glass of Scotch. "What with all the hair product you use." He said, jokingly. Damon scowled.

"This perfection," he gestured to his hair, "is achieved naturally, thank you."

"And there you go again." I said, raising my eyebrows knowingly. "But I can dig it. You two make a cute couple."

"I just can't win." Damon grumbled into his glass. When he finally resurfaced from the now empty glass, which I just as quickly refilled, he decided that it was time for introductions. "Gemma, this is my _platonic_ drinking buddy, Alaric Saltzman." He said gesturing to the man to the left of him. "Ric, this lovely vixen is Gemma, my absolute favorite bartender. She has no last name, just the monomer." Alaric extended his hand toward me, I accepted it with my own.

"Call me Ric." He said. I nodded. Now I remembered, Jeremy had talked to me about him before.

"As long as you promise _not_ to give me any nicknames. At all." I shot a glare at Damon, who just smiled smugly at me.

"That I can do." He chuckled.

"So, my fiery butterfly," I guess Damon was talking to me, "what's supposed to happen tonight? I heard all the teenagers were in a tizzy about some so called talent coming down to the Grill."

"Yeah, there's supposed be a band here," I looked at my watch which read 8:05, "five minutes ago. It's new thing we're trying out. Doesn't seem to be working. Too bad, I was looking forward to a laugh." I replied blandly, spotting a customer down the bar aways needing a refill. I was down there for a while, trying to escape meaningless small talk from the handsy customer, before making my way back to fill Damon's and Ric's glasses.

I spotted Caroline coming up to the bar, a bright smile on her face.

"Hey Gem." I grimaced slightly at the name, but nodded in acknowledgment. She turned looking at Ric. "Hey Ric," he nodded his hello as well. When she looked over at Damon, he smiled and fluttered his fingers annoyingly. "Damon." She spit his name out like a curse and her face puckered for a second.

"Oh, Caroline," he dragged her name out, "don't be like that." Caroline gave him a look that said "drop-dead," which was hilarious for me to have the pleasure of observing, before turning back to me.

"Gem, what's going on with the entertainment? I was promised an awesome performance." She rattled out, exasperated.

"Not sure what to tell you Blondie," I replied, Damon's eyebrows quickly rose, then relaxed just as quickly as I said this, "whoever that's supposed to be here is late and that's all I know about it." I shrugged. I noticed the boss trying to get my attention from his office door in the shadows behind the bar. "But, my boss want to talk now, so maybe he knows something. Hold on." I walked to the back to talk to the balding, pudgy, sweaty man. "So I've got some customers complaining about the act not being here."

"Yes, about that." the nervous man started, tugging at his tie. "They were on their way, but they got a flat, they're waiting for the tow truck now. They'll be here as soon as possible, but until then we need someone to go on. The natives are getting restless."

"I agree." I nodded slightly.

"So.." He looked pointedly at me.

"What do you want me to do about it? I'm a bartender."

"I don't know Gemma, I just need you to go out there and stall until they get here. Tell a joke, tell a story, dance, I don't know just keep them entertained for a while."

"That is not in my job description." I replied.

"Actually, it says you'll do any more responsibilities asked by management. So I'm asking you to do this."

"Well, you have me there." I said sourly, irritation flooding through my system. "Fine. Put the piano out, and a mic on top." I stomped back to the three I left, still scowling.

"Well, you don't look too happy." Damon said, stating the obvious. "Did you finally fire you for over-intoxicating customers?"

"I wish." I groused, untying my apron. "Well," I said turning to Caroline, "the act is on their way, running late because of a bloody flat."

"Well, what are we supposed to do until then?" She whined.

"Never fear, a temp act has been hired." I threw my apron under the bar, and let my hair out of its bun.

"Let me guess." said Damon, "you?"

"Wow, you're so smart." I bit back sarcastically. Caroline squealed.

"This is so exciting!" She sang, "I can't wait to tell everybody." She was literally bouncing in place, until she skipped off to her table of friends that included both Gilberts and the other Salvatore.

"Whatever."

"Well, break a leg." Encouraged Ric.

"Thanks." I replied, lamely, walking to the stage as if it was the gallows.

The piano was set up, mic steady on top, the stage light was unnecessarily bright, which I quickly corrected by glaring at the light technician and gesturing to the overhead light. He dimmed it until it was just barely casting a glow over me. The bar had begun to quiet down, but they weren't quite there yet, so I began playing softly, warming up, scales first, transitioning into some classical piece I learned long ago and just as quickly forgot the name. It was finally silent and I leaned the mic toward me. Still playing softly, I began to speak.

"So, hey everyone. Hopefully, you all are having a good night. I was having a fine one until I was forced-" my train of thought was severed by an abrupt clearing of the throat by my boss that was on the side of the stage. I just narrowed my eyes at him. "Anyway, the group that was scheduled to play tonight is on the way, they're are just running a little late. So I am here to fill in while you wait for them."

"Play 1000 miles!" Yelled some overly enthusiastic female toward the front of the stage.

"I do not take requests." I said sharply, ignoring my bosses attempts at silencing me. "I will play a song or two of my own, and you will sit there and listen to them. Understood?" I heard a low chuckle, and I zeroed in on the owner of it. None other than Damon, I glared daggers at him and he just shrugged innocently. Innocent my arse. I changed my tune to something low, sultry, complex with a slow tempo.

_"I've seen the world, done it all, had my cake now_

_Diamonds, brilliant, and Bel Air now,_

_Hot summer nights, mid July,_

_When you and I were forever wild_

_The crazy days, city lights_

_The way you'd play with me like a child."_

I had been focused on my singing and playing, but I finally looked up at the audience to see their response. The people in front were properly enthralled. Caroline, I saw next, she was smiling hard, stars shining in her eyes. All I could do was shake my head.

_"Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?_

_I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will,_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?"_

I had been scanning the crowd from underneath my eyelashes, and I finally made it to the other side of the room where Damon and Ric sat. Ric looked thoroughly impressed. And Damon, well, if his slack jaw and glazed eyes were any indicator, he was pretty impressed too.

_"I've seen the world, lit it up as my stage now_

_Channeling angels in, the new age now_

_Hot summer days, rock 'n' roll_

_The way you play for me at your show_

_And all the ways I got to know your pretty face and electric soul."_

I closed my eyes, getting into the song. When I wrote the song it was meant as equal parts hope, and joke. Joke because I would always be young apparently, hope because even though I said I would never love after Kartik, I guess there was a piece of me that hoped for a new everlasting love.

_"Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?_

_I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will,_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?"_

I opened up my eyes again when I got to the bridge.

_"Dear lord, when I get to heaven_

_Please let me bring my man_

_When he comes tell me that you'll let him in_

_Father tell me if you can_

_Oh that grace, oh that body_

_Oh that face makes me wanna party_

_He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds._

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?_

_I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_

_Will you still love me when I'm not young and beautiful?"_

I let that last note linger, but noticing a keep going gesture from my boss, I continued to play, transitioning it into something softer, lighter, tinkling almost.

_"Heart beats fast_

_Colors and promises_

_How to be brave?_

_How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?_

_But watching you stand alone,_

_All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow._

_One step closer..._

_I have died everyday waiting for you_

_Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you_

_For a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more"_

I glanced around the room, some people were swaying to the music, normal dinner chatter had started up again. I wasn't upset by it, but what did catch me off guard was Damon's brother. He was staring intently, calculatively at something, someone, across the room. I followed his line of sight and saw that it was Damon who was his target. Damon who was still looking at me, but had ceased his drooling. In fact, he was looking at me calculatively too. Weird, must be a Salvatore brother thing.

_"Time stands still_

_Beauty in all she is_

_I will be brave_

_I will not let anything take away_

_What's standing in front of me_

_Every breath, every hour has come to this_

_One step closer..._

_I have died everyday waiting for you_

_Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you_

_For a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_And all along I believed I would find you_

_Time has brought your heart to me_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_One step closer..._

_One step closer..._

_I have died everyday waiting for you_

_Darling don't be afraid I have loved you_

_For a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more._

_And all along I believed I would find you_

_Time has brought your heart to me_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more."_

I finished the song up, still playing the keys gently, looking over at my boss to see if I could finally leave. Unfortunately, he wanted me to play one more song. The band was here, but they needed a few minutes to set up. I was so demanding a bonus for this. "Okay guys, one last song. You might recognize this one, _Never Let me Go_ by Florence and the Machine. Feel free to sing along." I started playing the melody.

_"Looking up from underneath_

_Fractured moonlight on the sea_

_Reflections still look the same to me_

_As before I went under_

_And it's peaceful in the deep_

_Cathedral where you cannot breathe_

_No need to pray, no need to speak_

_Now I am under all_

_And it's breaking over me_

_A thousand miles down to the sea bed_

_Found the place to rest my head_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go"_

I guess while I was focused on my inner thoughts, the band had started setting up behind me, and the drummer joined me on the verse. I nodded at him.

_"And the arms of the ocean are carrying me_

_And all this devotion was rushing out of me_

_In the crushes of heaven for a sinner like me_

_But the arms of the ocean delivered me_

_Though the pressure's hard to take_

_It's the only way I can escape_

_It seems a heavy choice to make_

_And now I am under all_

_And it's breaking over me_

_A thousand miles down to the sea bed_

_Found the place to rest my head_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go"_

Once again the drummer joined in, and this time with the bass player. I think I even heard some of the audience start to sing.

_"And the arms of the ocean are carrying me_

_And all this devotion was rushing out of me_

_In the crushes of heaven for a sinner like me_

_But the arms of the ocean delivered me_

_And it's over_

_And I'm going under_

_But I'm not giving up_

_I'm just giving in_

_I'm slipping underneath_

_So cold and so sweet_

_And the arms of the ocean so sweet and so cold_

_And all this devotion I never knew at all_

_In the crushes of heaven for a sinner released_

_And the arms of the ocean delivered me_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Deliver me_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Deliver me_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Deliver me_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

_And it's over_

_(Never let me go, Never let me go)_

_And I'm going under_

_(Never let me go, Never let me go)_

_But I'm not giving up_

_(Never let me go, Never let me go)_

_I'm just giving in_

_(Never let me go, Never let me go)_

_I'm slipping underneath_

_(Never let me go, Never let me go)_

_So cold and so sweet_

_(Never let me go, Never let me go)_ "

I finished playing, and stood up from the bench, cracking my shoulders. I leaned back down so I could talk into the mic.

"Okay, I'm finally done." Applause exploded at that. When it died down I continued. "Thanks," I chuckled, "And I know present to you "MouseRat!" I lazily made my way off the stage, walking back behind the bar, putting my apron back on.

"My, my, my, Red. You've been holding out on me." Damon's voice dripped into my ear like smooth toffee. I turned to face him. He had a new look in his eyes, it was deeper than the normal flirty one he had, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to see it there or not. "Why didn't I know there was a sultry cabaret singer hiding in plain sight?" He questioned me.

"You just don't seem to ask the right questions, Damon. I'm an open book." For the most part.

"Yeah," he scoffed, "if the book's an incomplete mystery."

"Har har." I replied, with only the slightest bit of humor, so basically undetectable.

"That was great, Gemma." Chimed Ric, giving Damon a strange look.

"Thank Ric, I do what I can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first song was Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey, and the second was 1000 Years by Christina Perri, and ze third was mentioned in the story. Andddd, I'm still not satisfied. Now, I kinda want to put Gemma in a sitch where there's a pole involved and a distraction needed. Maybe later. ;)


	9. That Heart to Heart

"Who are you Gemma? Who are you really?" He asked me later on that night as we sat on my couch, a bottle or two of wine shared between us. Well, the wine was really all mine. He had found my stash of hard liquor and helped himself. "I've told you about me. About everything, Katherine, Stefan, why I'm here. I haven't even told Stefan why I'm here yet. And I'm still not sure why I told you, something inside of me is telling me to trust you, even though for most of my life I've never trusted most people with anything more than my name. I don't know anything about you really. You speak in riddles, I don't even know your last name!" His voice escalated until he was yelling. "Just tell me." He requested, much calmer now. "I've been asking  _what_  you are, but please, just tell me  _who_  you are. Maybe that's the better question." If someone had told me that my choice to come to Mystic Falls, Virginia would lead me to finding someone I could tell to the wholetruth of who I was, I would've believed them. 

 

I would've believed them because magic and premonitions have very much been a large part of my life since my sixteenth birthday, so who was I to discount what someone else had seen about my life? Hell, if I had just listened to Mother Elena of the Gypsies all those years, ago, I probably wouldn't even be in this position. And if that person had told me this, I never would've come here. I would've avoided this place like the plague, because living for an eternity is much easier when you're doing it alone and there isn't anyone to give you heartbreak, or die on you. Because those kinds of hurts would stay with you for the rest of your life. For forever. So yes, it was hard for me to open up to this man, this vampire I called my friend, because one, I hadn't had friends for a very long time, and two, friends have the most potential for damage if they turn into enemies. But, I decided to tell him the truth, knowing that he felt the same about this that I did and that we would be on level playing ground once I showed him all of my cards. I guess had been alone long enough.

 

"This is a very complex story, so please leave all your questions until the end." I started, taking a deep breath. "When I was sixteen, I saw my mother die."

 

"That's not  _that_  complex." He said, interrupting my thoughts.

 

"Maybe not to  _you_ , but if you would allow me to continue, you'll be able to figure out what's so different about her death." I gave him a look, and when he nodded, I continued. "We were in India at the time, in a market place. I told you, I'd lived there for most of my life until I went off to finishing school. It was my birthday, and I was angry at mother, I had been arguing with her nonstop. Stupid teenager problems. I was being a ninny, and I didn't want to look at her anymore, so I ran away, through the market place. I had no idea where I was going. And then I saw her being stabbed by a man that she knew. Mind you, I was across town at this point. I was having a vision." I held up a finger to stop Damon from speaking again.

 

"I know what you're going to ask. No, I am not a witch. I've met witches, researched witches. My visions, while still magical, were different from what witches do. Witches are bound to the earth, nature, bound to their bloodline, their ancestry. I don't have those types of shackles on what I can do. And it's not black magic, it's not expression, it just  _is_. Anyway, in the vision I had seen my mother being stabbed by this man, and the man  had been consumed by some evil entity. I ran back to the place that I left my mother, hoping to be able to stop this horrible thing from occurring, but I was too late, too far away, and when I found her, I found her in a pool of her own blood. I mourned for a few months, then was shipped to England to go to school, where I uncovered a cult of women who practiced magic inside a place called the realms.

 

"I'm still not so sure about this," I continued, "but I assume that the realms are a sort of alternate dimension or something where what I can only guess are the fae reside, it may even be the crossroads between here and the afterlife. I met plenty of corrupt souls there that never crossed over. Even helped a few lost souls across. There's magic there, and I found that by staying there for a few hours, I could take some of the magic back into the this world with me. It could do anything, the magic, but it was impermanent, whatever I did only lasted for several hours, a day at the most." A pause to gather my thoughts. "Later I found out that my mother had been working with the man that stabbed her, against this dark entity, controlled by a woman called Circe.The only way to save her, was to kill her before she was consumed by it. A lot happened over the year or two I was in England, at that academy. I beat Circe, I thought I'd killed her, unfortunately I only imprisoned her, but it was enough because I rendered her useless. That magic that was in the realms though, it was contained in these jewels, and only people like me, humans, and then eventually only me, were able to draw from the power. That left the creatures of the realms magic-less, they didn't like that, they pleaded with me to release the magic, and I agreed to. But at first I didn't know how.

 

"Then when I did know how, I wasn't sure what to do with it, and I may also have been a bit selfish, because when I broke the jewels that held all of the power, I kept the power to myself. And for months, I kept that power. And it boiled under my skin, bubbling in my veins, wanting, waiting to be used. But I didn't use it, because I had found that once when I tried, I would see a frightening image of Circe, my first foe, like it was burned into the back of my eyelids. The magic didn't like not being used though. It made me ill. Ill in body, ill in mind. And though I though the struggle for power in the realms was over when I knocked Circe out of the race, I realized that she wasn't the big bad at all. There was a more powerful enemy that fed off of violence and anger, and all things evil. So there was a war, and then I died. But I was given a choice to come back and fight, to finish it once and for all. So I did. And I fought with my friends, with my love. And in the end, we won. But I lost him forever. And then I did the right thing, I bound the magic that had been in my body, that I had stolen from the realms, to the land, equally, so that everyone could share it. And then I left.

 

"And I didn't go back for ten years, and only then because I needed counsel from the creatures that lived there, because some strange things were happening. The magic, it was still in me, and when I used it, it was no longer on a time limit. Everything I made became permanent...real." Noticing that I was coming to the end of my story, Damon chanced a question.

 

"So what are you? Twenty-six, twenty-seven? Just judging from the timeline of your story." He inquired

 

"I didn't even get to the best part of my story yet, Damon. I was twenty-eight when I went back to the realms to ask them some questions. The strangest thing that happened? I stopped aging when I was twenty-two. They called it 'accidental immortality.'" His eyebrows shot up.

 

"That's impossible." He cried out. "You? Immortal? As in around, forever? But still  _human_? The man upstairs  has got to be fuckin' with me right now." He ran his fingers through his hair. "So, how old are you then?"

 

"Going with my age of twenty-eight, which is what it says on my driver's license, I find it to be quite the coincidence that I too have been this age for 145 years."

 

"Born in-"

 

"1836"

 

"This gives 'respect your elders' a whole new meaning." He paused, looking as if he didn't know how to ask his next question.

 

"Just ask!" I urged.

 

"You said that you were in love, and that your lover died." It brought a frown to my face, but I nodded. "Who was he, and what does he have to do with your tattoo?"

 

"So you noticed that did you?" I said, absently rubbing my ring finger before showing it to him. "His name was Kartik, that's what's tattooed there. He was Indian, and for a proper English girl as I was back then, he was completely off limits. He sacrificed his life for mine, and I use to dream of him. I though the dreams meant that we'd meet again, in the afterlife. That he was waiting for me. And while that may be the case for him, while he may still be waiting for me, it doesn't seem that I'll be making it anytime soon."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Well, I thought I'd just bide my time, I left England to go to University, to give my family something to be proud of. I would never had been able to be that society girl. It was never in the cards for me. I was planning on living a lonely life, I was ready to die. I was waiting to get old and die. But then I stopped aging. After I confirmed this, I tried to kill myself. And nothing worked. They told me that I'd never have the choice of death again." I sighed.

 

"So if I just snapped your neck, you would just get back up?" He asked, a little too interested.

 

"Yes. Don't even try anything Damon, keep your hands to yourself. If I thought it would work, I'd let you have a go at it, but alas, I've tried hanging myself, stabbing myself - through the heart, jumping of a cliff, drowning myself - which I must say was the most painful because until I got out of the water I just kept waking up and drowning again, I got hit by a car and ended up waking up in the morgue, I wasn't about to burn myself alive that would be stupid and disfiguring, frostbite is a bitch to deal with but other than falling asleep then waking back up, overexposure to cold does not a thing. I even swiped some drugs from a hospital to induce a heart attack."

 

"Didn't work?"

 

"Didn't work. Even if I managed to find a way to experience true death, I'd never make it back to him. He is no longer my endgame."

 

"That is possibly the saddest thing I've ever heard." And I could tell he was being truthful.

 

"It is pretty pitiful."

 

"But at least now you have an immortal friend to hang out with. This brings a whole new meaning to BFFs." He smirked, nudging me, trying to get me into a better mood.

 

"Yeah until you rescue your vampire girlfriend and go off with her." This sobered him up.

 

"Before I told you all about Katherine and my plan, you knew. You said it wouldn't work. Why and how?" I shook my head.

 

"I don't know everything Damon. I don't get visions anymore, only feelings, and these feelings are telling me that everything that you've waiting patiently for all these years, it's not going to end as you'd hoped. You're not going to like it one bit. And it's not your fault. So when the time comes, don't think that."

 

"I...don't believe you." He got up, rising to his feet.

 

"And that's fine. Just know that I'll be here when you need me." And with that, he left, only a flash to my eyes.

* * *

He showed back up at the bar one evening, several days later. I assumed he was done pondering what I had said last time we'd spoken. He took his normal seat, and I set his chosen poison in front of him. I decided to start out with an olive branch.

 

"Doyle." I said.

 

"What?" He asked, confused.

 

"It's my last name. You ran out so quickly I'd forgotten to tell it to you."

 

"Hmmm." He looked pensive. "The town has a secret council comprised of a member of each founding family that is aware vampires exist. I have been charged with getting rid of the vampire problem, and working on a way to direct all suspicion away from myself." He finished, low enough so only I could hear him, downing his drink.

 

"And you thought your  _extracurricular_   _activities_  would go unnoticed." I jibed, happy that we were back on friendly enough ground to share secrets.

 

"So sue me." He griped, widening his eyes. "I haven't been around for quite a few years. I thought the belief in vampires fizzled out after that last purge in 1864. But nooooo, the council was keeping tabs on everything. I have to kill a vampire to even gain trust and entry to their little club. I am an Original Salvatore, we don't get hazed, we do the hazing." He whined and pouted, much like a child.

 

"So you're looking for ideas to get you in?" He nodded. "Well, if you're feeling Cullen-ish, like the moral road is the way for you, you could find a vampire that  is killing for no reason - much like yourself - or just downright evil, bring him to the town and set him up." He looked to be at least thinking about the idea. "Or, you could find a drifter or just plain bad human, change him, let him go free, then kill him...that's all I got."

 

"I'll admit, those are good ideas, however I have something else that's a-brewing in my mind." He tapped his fingers against his chin villainously. "Today is Stefan's birthday, he's turning 162. I'm sure his best friend, a vampire I cannot stand, will be coming around to spend the day with him. Like she always does." He said with a sneer. "As the  _good_  brother I am, I think I should make sure he gets a surprise he never forgets."

 

"I think I'm understanding where you're going with this, and while it is an effective to kill two or three birds with one stone, I don't see this bringing about all around good results. How about you use one of the other plans?" I suggested.

 

"No can do, Gem. I'm  _dead_  set on this one. You working tonight? Want to be my accomplice?" He grinned, both hopeful and conniving.

 

"Fortunately, I get off at six this evening. But it seems that I also have a plan for tonight. It involves a few bottles of champagne, a bubble bath, several candles, and a steamy romance novel," and also tweaking some things in your plan, "so I am afraid I can't be of any help to you tonight."

 

"Well that does sound like a good plan, maybe later there could be room for one more in that tub? And we could ditch the book?"

 

"That's a negative, Mr. Salvatore. Why don't you scooch along now and get things ready for this  _plan_  of yours and leave me to my job." I said, rolling my eyes. 

 

"Catch ya on the flip side, Gem." He saluted me as he left.

 

"You seem to be on good terms with Damon." Said a strangely worry-free Jeremy. He had been this way since the disappearance of Vicki. I had a sneaking suspicion that one of the vampires around town had something to do with this one-eighty Jeremy had pulled. He no longer had the lingering odor of weed on his clothes, the bags under his eyes gone. Sure it was a good change, no doubt, but it wasn't a natural one. But he was still the Jeremy I liked underneath all that surface crap, so whatever.

 

"Not really." I said, keeping up my cover. "He just enjoys flirting and the fact that I never cut off his drink supply." He laughed.

 

"Yeah, I'm sure anyone would enjoy that. As for me, I'm not so sure what to think about him. He gives off some seriously creepy vibes, he's always antagonizing his brother, and sometimes I feel like he's scamming on my sister, but even then I'm not sure if he's being serious or doing it just to piss off Stefan."

 

"You're right, he is a shady character."

 

"All that being said, I can see you two as a couple." Had I been drinking something, I would've choked at this revelation.

 

"Excuse me? I think not. He has some serious issues."

 

"You're good at fixing people. You helped me out and that was just after one talk. Yeah, I can definitely see it."

 

"That's it, away with you. Shoo! And don't come back until you're through speaking nonsense."

 

"Yeah, yeah, Gemma." He chuckled, walking away.


	10. That Mess of Yours I Cleaned Up

After leaving work for the night, I walked to my apartment, with every intention of heading back out to follow Damon and thwart his sure to be idiotic - and painful for Stefan - plan. So after I took a shower to clean the dirt and grime that seemed to hover behind the bar, I changed into some clothes that would help me blend in with the crowd that normally frequented the bar, since, according to Damon, whatever that he planned was going to happen there.

I made my way back to the bar and Grille, casting my patented notice-me-not illusion like a cloak around me, and slinked into a back corner of the bar, where I could watch all the going-ons in the large room. Soon enough, I saw Stefan Salvatore and his merry band of teenagers come into the building, accompanied by a pretty blonde I was not acquainted with, with whom he was chatting animatedly with. Well, as animated as his brooding forehead would let him be.

I assumed that this was _the_ Lexi, Stefan's vampire best friend that Damon was gunning for in his plot tonight. Stefan looked so happy with her being here. The best birthday surprise I suppose, were the reunions between family and friends, not that I'd known that pleasure for quite some time. I already decided that I was going to interfere with Damon's plan, but the pure contentedness that radiated off of Stefan, and by extension Elena and Lexi, I was definitely going to make sure no one had a bad ending, at least for tonight. It was the least I could do. I may not have been all buddy-buddy with Stefan, but if he ever found out that I was behind saving Lexi, I would make sure it counted towards all his birthday presents for the rest of his existence. I mean, friends are forever, unless they're killed...permanently.

I watched as the group of friends gathered around a large table created bu smaller tables being pushed together. They were singing happy birthday to Stefan and everyone's attention was on him. Except Lexi, she moved toward the bar, I was guessing that she had the intent of buying shots for the birthday celebrators. No one noticed her absence. I tracked her to the bar, and saw her waiting for the bartender to finish up with the other customers in order to serve her. I watched as Damon slinked in and leaned against the bar-top next to her, whispering something in her ear. I looked around again, trying to see if anyone had noticed this little interaction. The party-goers were still in their own little world, but I saw the Sheriff peek in through the entrance door, watch Damon interact with Lexi with what seemed to be thinly veiled worry, before heading back out. Seems like Damon did have a friend other than myself.

I watched as Lexi sassed something back, I could tell that it was good by the curve of her lips and the slight frown on Damon's face. She was still waiting for the bartender to notice her. All of the sudden, Damon took syringe filled with some type of liquid and stabbed it into Lexi, making her groan in pain then pass out. He caught her, and maneuvered her to the back hallway of the Grille. I got up, following them to the alley behind the Grille seeing that the Sheriff and one of the deputies was waiting for him there.

"Are you sure she's a vampire?"

"Of course." Damon responded, in his usual exasperated tone. "She's new to town, only comes out during the night, seems extremely shady, and if she were human, the vervain wouldn't have affected her like this. She's the one that's been doing the killings. I'm sure of it." I watched as his eyes gleamed in the excitement of having one of his plans work out. He held his hand out to Sheriff Forbes, waiting, I assumed, for her to hand over a stake. Realizing that this plan was about to come to an end and I still wasn't sure how to interfere without making myself known, I started thinking of what I knew about vampires.

They were the undead, the resurrected. They had hearts and heartbeats, just much slower than human beings. I assumed that they could be killed by decapitation or a stake to the heart, which seemed to be the direction Damon was taking... It was magic that kept them alive in the first place, and I had a bunch of that. If I could channel my power into creating her a new heart, and keeping her body in a state of stasis after she was staked, that would keep the her 'life force' in her body so when her new heart was reunited, she would be as good as new, and I wouldn't have to worry about staging the death of a vampire when I knew nothing of what happened when they died.

Sheriff Forbes handed over the stake, and we watched as Damon plunged the sharpened end into Lexi chest. If she hadn't been such an innocent party, watching him embrace his darker side to finish her off might have been attractive. Alas, this was not the case. Lexi's eyes shot open and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Her back arched up in a painful looking move, well, I guess no more painful that getting a stake through the heart, and black veins started to rippled outwards from the wound on her chest, up her neck, down her arms, anywhere really. Her skin lost all color, other than these impressive veins, and she fell back down against the concrete, dead, her new heart thumps slow and strong in my fist.

Sheriff Forbes looked on in utter revulsion. I guess she had never seen anything as grotesque as supernatural death. Tell me about it, there were few things more terrifying. Damon gave a wicked grin, tossing the stake back to her fumbling hand, dusting off his own as if he'd just done something labor intensive.

"Have one of your guys bury her somewhere in the woods. She won't be anymore trouble." He said, walking away. "I've got myself a ginger to find and celebrate with." _That's what you think._ I thought. _But you're so wrong._ _On both counts._ My sights were now set on the deputies that looked upon the body in slightly less disgust than the female Sheriff. After receiving the orders from her, they packed Lexi's body in their trunk, and drove off. I followed. We ended up in the woods, not far from were I assumed Vicki had been first attacked by Damon. My how cyclic life was. They began to dig, and I pondered the merits of making them forget what they were doing and go on with their lives, or to let them finish. I decided to let them finish, because although I was confident in my powers, I wasn't sure what other sort of supes were out there and whether or not they'd be able to unravel the glamour I had put on the men. Besides, what was a little dirt between friends? When the men finished, they left, not without throwing a suspicious gaze around the surrounding area. I couldn't blame them, I mean, there were dangerous things out in the woods at night.

I moved the freshly disturbed soil out of the way, and jumped into Lexi's shallow grave, straddling her was the only thing I could do in such a small area, so I did, and then I thrust her heart back into her chest, triggering her essence to attach to it and start working again. She choked on her first intake of air and coughed, bringing her hand up to feel at her chest, which was still wounded.

"What happened?" She rasped. "Who are you?" Not even commenting on my strange position atop her.

"What do you remember happening?" I asked. Her brow furrowed.

"It's Stefan's birthday, I was at the bar..." she thought on it for a second. "Damon," she growled, a fierce expression overtaking the confusion. "He staked me!" He expression then turned to wonder, she was feeling at her chest more fervently. "He staked me, it went through, I was dead, how...?" She said looking at me, wincing and she explored the deep wound in her chest.

"I brought you back." I said, nonchalantly.

"Black magic?" She asked, seeming afraid of my answer.

"Nah, only witches are constrained by the lines of black and white magic...and pulling power from nature..." I replied. It confused her, but the fear was gone.

"So..." she was trying to get an answer about my affinity for magic out of me. Not going to happen. I got off of her, jumping out of the hole. I put my hand out for her to grab.

"I didn't just save you for you to get killed again." I said, as she gingerly made her way out of her grave with my helping hand.

"Damon.." She growled his name.

"Damon thinks you're dead, he thinks it was a good idea to kill you, but I have a feeling that it's much better for everyone involved for you to be alive."

"I've got a score to settle with him." She said, moving to leave the woods. I stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Listen, he already staked you once. In front of the Sheriff, she knows your face. This town's council is ready for vampires, they have stores of vervain and I'm sure the numbers for a few more vampire hunters when they decide that Damon is ineffective. You go back, still injured," I eyed her wound, "and you bring trouble from higher up, not just on yourself, but on Stefan. And I'm sure you don't want that, right?" She sighed and shook her head. "And Damon, I'm sure you've known him way longer than me, so you have to know that he has issues. He _thinks_ he hates his brother, we know that's not true at all. They've been the only constant in each other's lives... ever. He's just lost, confused, and angry at the wrong person. I can see him levelling out soon. Something big's about to happen."

"What are you, the Damon fan club?"

"No, I'm more like his maid. It's seems like every week I'm cleaning up more of his messes. But, someone has to do it, or else his bad karma would swell to epic proportions affecting everyone around him. I for one, do not want to be a recipient of bad karma."

"I get that."

"So what do I do now then?"

"Well, I'm assuming that Damon's either looking for me now to gloat, or if he's realized that he's not going to find me, he went to Stefan to tell him all about his day. Stefan will be broken-hearted, and Damon will feel like he's winning. But Lexi, for the greater good, you cannot contact Stefan. Really, not anyone from this town. Don't even go to the house to pick up your stuff. As of an hour ago, you were dead You need to go home, and when you're there and you see any friends, make sure they know to keep on with this charade of your death. Damon psyche is really delicate at this moment, and if anything changes, several heads are going to roll."

"What you're saying makes sense, but..."

"To tell you the truth, this could be a really good thing. Your hiding." I clarified. "The less people that know about your alive status, the more helpful you are to Stefan if he ever gets in a jam."

"Ok, I get it. I'll leave and stay underground for a while." She looked up to the sky. "I better get a move on before the sun comes out. That would suck after all I've been through." She gave a bitter chuckle. She started to walk away, pausing for a moment. "I never got your name stranger." She said.

"Gemma." I replied.

"Well, Gemma," said, "thank you for saving my life. It seems I owe to you a life-debt." Then she sped off.

I put the 'crime scene' back in order, in case a certain dark-haired, sadistic vampire came around looking for proof, then flickered out of existence in the woods, and back into existence in my bathroom. I turned on the faucet, get the water to a slightly hotter-than-perfect-temperature, before starting to fill the tub with it. I added in a light lavender bubble mixture, and left the room to gather the things I needed to salvage my relaxing night in. A book, a full bathtub, and chilled bottle of champagne later, I stepped out of my clothes and into the water, shivering as the warmth from the water clashed with the chill from the air. I was halfway done with the champagne and the bestselling mystery-thriller when I got a visitor.

"Honey! I'm home!" He yelled from what I assumed was the front door. _So it starts._ I took a sip of the champagne straight from the bottle, rolling my eyes. I blur of black and the offender was standing in front of me. Had I not been so old, and completely covered my the mass of bubbles in my bath water, I might have blushed.

"Well, well, well," he said, running his eyes over the parts of my body that were exposed, such as my arms, upper chest, neck - which I guess was kind of important for his kind - head, tips of my toes, not much really, but he still made it seem quite dirty. "That's a large enough tub to fit two comfortably." He waggled his eyebrows and moved to take off his leather jacket.

"Hold it right there, mister. I don't know what about me trying to enjoy a bath _alone_ , makes you think I want to share or have company. Because I can assure you, if I wanted company, I would have it."

"Fiesty Gemma. I like it. Well, if you won't share you're bath with me, the least you can do is hand over the booze. I feel like celebrating!" He grabbed the bottle out of my hand and took a generous swig. And this was my life now.

"So what are we celebrating." I asked, although I already knew.

"The death of a thorn in my side."

"You finally got rid of Stefan." I joked. He laughed heartily, the most uplifted I'd ever seen him.

"Gemma, you're the best. You know that? But no, unfortunately he's phase three, and what happened tonight was phase one. Tonight, I succeeded in killing Stefan's best friend, and securing a permanent spot on the council." He sighed. "Today was a good day. Too bad you missed out. It was a rush." He took another swig.

"Damon, will you ever tire of creating enemies?"

"Father always said you weren't a great man until you had made enemies." His eyes flashed with a dark emotion I didn't have enough time to name.

"Mmmhmm." I replied, noncommittally.

"Besides, it's just Lexi. She was a nobody."

"Unless you are the person, or have done extensive recon on the person, you never know exactly what ties they have to others. She could have left a mate behind. I'd like to think that you've at least had some experience with them, they're quite bothersome no matter the species."

"Seriously, you are harshing my mellow."

"So sorry." I rolled my eyes, gesturing for my bottle back.

"It wasn't strong enough anyway." He groused giving it back, quickly leaving and reappearing with some Scotch and a tumbler I didn't even know I owned. "It's been a good week." He grinned. "And next week, I know for a fact that it'll be even better." I highly doubted that.

"Damon, promise me something."

"What's with the pensive attitude? This is supposed to be happy time." I just gave him a look. "Fine, what?"

"When all this is over. And you find, maybe not what you've been looking for, but when you find what's there waiting for you, will you promise to take a long hard look at yourself and think of ways to get your good karma levels up?" He burst out laughing.

"I didn't know supernatural creatures believe in karma." He said, still laughing.

"How could I not? It is a form of balance, is it not? And everything in this world has a balancing factor. This is what this witches are most adamant about. And you, sir, have accrued a massive amount of karmic dust around your soul."

"Karmic dust, soul?!" He spluttered. "You're serious, aren't you?" He said, evaluating me. I only nodded.

"Why is it always the crazy ones that are hot?" He whined to himself. "Or maybe she hot, because she's crazy?" He mused.

"I could say the same about you Damon Salvatore." I smirked.

"Well, you got me there." He chuckled. "But seriously? I'm dead, I have no soul, and by extension, no karmic dust. Whatever that is."

"That's just like saying a caterpillar is not a butterfly, or vice versa. Humans have souls, yes? So why would a vampire, which is just an upgraded, evolved human, not have a soul as well? If you were soulless, your mind would be vacant as well. That is clearly not the case here, in fact, I think you think, and plan, and scheme a little _too_ much."

"You think I'm a butterfly?" He said, half-joking, half-pleadingly serious.

"That was the only thing you caught from that?" He nodded.

"Well then Damon, I truly think that you are the most beautiful, disturbed, damaged, strong, courageous butterfly that ever used to be a caterpillar."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. All the other butterflies have to flutter away when faced with the potential power that is you."

"You know," he said, quietly, "I think I'll keep you around for a little while longer."

"Like you could ever get rid of me anyway. And we're not done talking about the karmic dust." I grumbled, taking a swig of the now room temperature champagne and leaning back in my tub to finish my book, ignoring Damon as he leaned back against my sink contemplating my words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that might have been slightly OCC on Damon's part, because while he does fish for compliments and gloat about the horrible things he's done, he's not so forward with his vulnerability, at least at this timeframe in TVD. We definitely see it later on in the show, but I like to think that if Damon had a friend like Gemma, where the relationship was full of shared secrets, he wouldn't mind giving her another secret to keep. Besides, this isn't called That Wicked and Needy Type of Love for no reason. He's just being both the Wicked and Needy portions of the relationship right now. What can I say, Gemma's mostly got her emotional shit taken care of already.
> 
> And this is what I do in my free time, psychoanalyze doubly fake relationships, between fake people.
> 
> Thanks for the continued support! If anyone's actually reading this on purpose because I seriously don't even know anymore...

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So Gemma's on her way to Mystic Falls. I'm starting this at Season One. This will be Demma, but I'm gonna start them out as friends. Because you know that Damon's obsessed with Katherine all season. Just to be clear, there will not be any Delena. Just some of the normal one-sided Datherine. So what did you think? Who of the Mystic Falls gang should she meet first? Let me know.
> 
> Oh and PS. That flashback is courtesy of The Sweet Far Thing by Libba Bray, p. 773-776. I changed some of the tenses to make it fit as a flashback.
> 
> Ren!


End file.
